


I call it magic when I'm with you

by cottonee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Drinking, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Magicians, Major Character Injury, Miscommunication, Non-Linear Narrative, Panic Attacks, Parallels canon (sometimes), Perceived Rivalry, References to Depression, Rivalry, Top Katsuki Yuuri, kinda established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16157624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottonee/pseuds/cottonee
Summary: The first magic trick is always simple—a dim light that dances on his fingertips bringing the attendant’s attention to him and only him. The flames get more intense before he throws them to the ceiling where they explode like a firework and the sparkles come down slowly, like snowflakes.
Yuuri extends his arms, extinguishing the sparks with a twitch of his hand. He bows in his particular way to thank the audience.—After a big misunderstanding, Yuuri finds himself in a magic competition he did not ask to be part of, and his rival is no other than Viktor Nikiforov, the man Yuuri admires the most.





	1. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [_Live and Love: A Yuri On Ice Big Bang 2018_](https://liveloveyoibang.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Hello everyone! I'm glad I'm finally able to post this! I wanna thank everyone that helped my with this during the writing process™ because I could have never finish this without the support. ❤ Also I’m sure I could never thank [Creme](http://creme13rulee.tumblr.com/) enough for betaing this, and of course, many thanks to [Hentipie](http://hentipie.tumblr.com/) for creating two [amazing](https://hentipie.tumblr.com/post/178828347983/my-first-art-for-anis-v-katsuki-magician-au) and [lovely](https://hentipie.tumblr.com/post/178828376158/my-second-art-for-anis-v-katsuki-magician-au) illustrations. ❤
> 
> Can you believe it’s been two years already since YOI started airing? shout-out to the show that changed my life! ♡
> 
> Anyway, I hope y’all will enjoy this!
> 
> Title is from “Magic” by Coldplay :) 

**I** t has all started with a couple of viral videos. Or as Yuuri likes to call them, a series of misunderstandings and drunk mistakes.

But then again, sometimes, great things in life do not have the best beginning and come unexpectedly.

Yuuri’s talent was a gift, one that he had not expected, nor he wanted to own. He was barely four years old when he set his father’s newspaper on fire by accident, and to his dismay, that was only the start of _too_ many weird occurrences that happened to him.

It had been frustrating not knowing what was happening to him. He often knew very strange and _very_ personal facts just by looking at a person’s eyes. He often lost his belongings for days just to find them in weird places, and once he jumped and he felt like he was flying.

Thankfully, most of his questions were answered one afternoon when an old friend of his mother came to visit—a tall lady that spoke to Yuuri with a soft voice.

“You’re a magician, Yuuri,” she told him. “Some people are born with a special talent and you’re one of them.”

Yuuri did not felt special, but he nodded anyway. Minako took him under her wing afterward, teaching him how to use his magic and how to keep everything within his control.

“A long time ago, people born with magic were far more common, but nowadays, it’s difficult to find someone who bears the gift,” Minako explained. “Modern times mean fewer magic people, and even less magic in our bodies.”

Yuuri, who was focused on changing the color of a cloth, looked at his mentor with curious eyes.

“Less magic?” he asked and Minako ruffled his hair.

“Nowadays people have so little magic within them that most of them never notice it.” Minako sighed. “The ones who are lucky enough to know how to use their gift are usually healers, fortune tellers or performers.”

“Performers?” That definitely peaked Yuuri’s interest.

“Yes, they create shows to entertain the masses, and usually they also compete in magic contests and championships all around the world.” Minako smiled. It was the first time Yuuri saw her smiling without a worry in the world. “I used to be a performer too.”

Yuuri learned a lot about magic performances that day, and by the time he was ready to go to bed, he was sure he also wanted to create a great performance for the world to see, to make people happy.

Minako seemed elated with his decision.

He pursued his dream working harder every day, learning how to make things disappear, how to manipulate objects around him and how to escape from anywhere. He learned to change the world around him while he also developed new techniques to stay focused and to keep his emotions on check.

Moving forward a couple of years, Yuuri met Yuuko, a girl who also was learning magic and that showed him the most amazing magician in the whole wide world: Viktor Nikiforov. A teen who was gifted with the same talent as them and that was slowly becoming a celebrity thanks to his natural charms.

Yuuri wanted to meet him more than anything.

It was in Tokyo when Yuuri, twenty-years-old and starry eyed, got to see his idol, Viktor Nikiforov: The Living Legend of Magic, for the first time. He had bought his ticket for Viktor’s magic show as soon as the Tokyo dates were announced, and he counted down the days for the spectacle with enthusiasm.

Seeing Viktor with his own two eyes and not through a screen was more amazing than he ever expected. If the tiny Viktor in his laptop monitor looked good, the real-sized Viktor standing in the middle of the stage under the reflectors was simply stunning.

Viktor standing under the stage lights was a sight to behold. He moved with a characteristic grace that made him look more like an ethereal being than a man. Yuuri was—without a single doubt—enchanted by the magic that surrounded his idol.

Yuuri wished to share the stage with Viktor one day, and maybe… just maybe, if he ever got to be as good as Viktor, that dream could become true. However, for the time being, Yuuri hoped to be noticed by Viktor someday.

It was a little over a year later when unexpectedly (and regretfully) Viktor noticed Yuuri’s existence—and his admiration—for the very first time. It almost caused Yuuri’s heart to burst out of his chest because he had made a fool of himself and Viktor saw _everything_.

Somehow, Yuuri thought that getting drunk on _shochu_ was a good idea, and his _drunk-self_ thought that mimicking Viktor in the middle of his bedroom was a _great_ idea. Not only that, but letting Phichit record the whole thing while Yuuko laughed and Takeshi stayed by the door, silently judging his life decisions but looking at him with amusement nevertheless.

“Viktor look, I can also do your famous tricks!” Yuuri said and he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. He shook it a couple of times and a white dove appeared on his hand, which jumped to perch on his shoulder. Then, he produced a deck of cards from practically nowhere. “Pick a card, don’t show it to me.”

“Sure thing, Yuuri.” Phichit showed the card to the camera, and then he put it away.

“Now, don’t give it back.” Yuuri shuffled the rest of the cards, in a surprisingly coordinated way, even though he was clearly struggling to keep his balance.

Yuuri placed the deck of cards within the dove’s reach and the bird took out the Three of Clubs from the deck. “Is that your card?” Yuuri slurred.

“Yeah!” Phichit exclaimed. “But what happened to the one that I ke–it’s blank now!” Phichit showed the blank card in front of the camera.

“Just like Viktor!” Yuuko screamed along with Phichit.

Yuuri reached out to touch the blank card and Viktor’s smiling face appeared on the surface. Phichit waved the card in front of the camera excitedly.

“What should I do with the bird now?” Yuuri asked just before the video ended.

Even though the magic trick Yuuri performed was an old one from back when Viktor was younger and he was just discovering new ways to surprise his audience, it was one of the favorite magic tricks of Viktor's avid fans. It was not surprising when the video had more than one hundred thousand likes on Instagram the following day.

The surprise was finding Viktor Nikiforov’s verified account amongst the people who liked the video along with a comment written by him: “ _One of my favorite tricks ever!_ ”.

Yuuri swore to never get drunk again.

Even if his idol became aware of his existence thanks to his drunk excuse for magic, the event that changed his life irrevocably happened when Yuuri was completely sober. It was because of Japan's Magic Exhibition—a great event that reunited the greatest magicians from all across the country—that Viktor got to know Yuuri.

Yuuri chose to perform a show inspired by one of Viktor’s, completely unaware of the fact that the video of his performance would end up on the Internet where everyone would be able to watch it, including Viktor himself.

Card tricks and object manipulation were, without a doubt, Viktor's specialty, and Yuuri worked hard to put on a show worthy of being called an homage to the Great Viktor Nikiforov.

He played with the cards on the stage: he shuffled them swiftly, showing them to the audience just before moving to stand in front of a table. He built a big castle without touching the cards—just leading them to the right place with an easy movement of his hand.

Everyone clapped, and Yuuri bowed, accepting the applause. The show did not end there, and Yuuri kept playing with the deck, changing the reverse side of the cards, to make them look like pieces of a puzzle coming together to create complex landscapes.

The finishing act was the most daring of them all—Yuuri placed the cards on the table, opening them like a fan. With a flair, the cards moved and Yuuri arranged them to build a stage, completed it with stage lights shining softly, lightning the whole display.

Yuuri took a plain card in his hands before closing them together. When he opened them again, there was a small figure of a man on his palm—a tiny Viktor Nikiforov, waving at the crowd, like it had life of its own.

He placed the tiny Viktor on the stage, making it move and twirl around, like the real Viktor would do. He finished the trick when the figure extended its arms, posing like Viktor used to do after a performance. Yuuri closed his hand and the stage came tumbling down into a simple pile of cards.

The audience went wild.

In less than 24 hours, every magic fan in the world was aware of the video’s existence and thus, they were also aware of Yuuri’s existence, and suddenly, a new wave of people wanted to see his performances and take pictures with him and shake his hand. It was overwhelming, but nothing could have prepared him for what happened when they started to label Yuuri’s performance as a challenge rather than a homage.

Out of the blue, Yuuri’s embarrassing drunk video was relevant again as Viktor’s fans tried to put the pieces together in the wrong way, and soon enough the world had decided that Katsuki Yuuri was daring Viktor Nikiforov to engage in some kind of magic battle, or something like that.

All Yuuri wanted to do was to flee the country and never be seen again.

Every day he hoped that Viktor was too busy to pay attention to the gossips and rumors, but his luck was not that good. One morning Yuuko sent him a link to a clip from Viktor’s most recent interview after he won the European Magic Competition, and Yuuri actually screamed out loud when he saw it.

“Being a magician has always been part of my life in one way or another, and in all these years, no one has dared me to compete against them for real, so I’ve decided to test my abilities against Yuuri Katsuki,” Viktor said with a bright smile on his face. “He seems to be a great contender, and this is really exciting!”

Yuuri let his phone fall to the floor not bothering to check if the screen got cracked (it did), but he could not care less. Viktor Nikiforov was well aware of what he did, he even had called Yuuri a _great_ _contender_ —like he truly believed that Yuuri’s abilities were good enough to compete against his.

To Yuuri's own amazement, he found himself actually considering pushing his limits to take part in the competition, if only to be closer to his idol.

Yuuri’s previous surprise, however, was nothing compared to the rush of emotions he felt a month later he found out that Viktor was moving to Tokyo to be closer to his new rival.

He set his phone on fire after he read the news, ruining it forever.

**S** ince then it seems like both—Yuuri and Viktor—are bound to test the limits of their magic against each other to create new tricks and forge new boundaries until one of them is crowned as the best magician in the world. Or at least that is what everyone says about their rivalry.

Yuuri never expected that turn of events that made of his life something he could have never imagined, not even in his wildest dreams.

It has been seven months full of surprises since Viktor came into his life, and each day feels like a new adventure with Viktor being a perpetual presence by his side.

Now, Yuuri adjusts the top hat on his head. The audience is waiting for him, and he takes a deep breath to steady his hands and clear his mind.

It is always like this before a performance, no matter how simple or complicated his performance is bound to be, no matter how many people wait for him on the other side of the curtain, no matter how many times he has found himself ready to amuse the audience. The anxiety that lurks deep inside his mind threats to get out of his control and numb his senses, but he cannot let it show, cannot let it affect his routine. Not now, not ever.

The lights go out, and he finally steps on the stage.

The first magic trick is always simple—a dim light that dances on his fingertips bringing the attendant’s attention to him and _only_ him. The flames get more intense before he throws them to the ceiling where they explode like a firework and the sparkles come down slowly, like snowflakes.

Yuuri extends his arms, extinguishing the sparks with a twitch of his hand. He bows in his particular way to thank the assistants. He never speaks during his performances, preferring to let his magic do the talking instead.

Another moment of darkness before all the lights shine upon him. He throws his jacket’s white handkerchief to the air and a dove spreads its wings when the fabric flutters as it falls. The audience claps politely when the bird flies in a circle around the stage before moving to perch on a metal bar over the reflectors.

Yuuri makes objects float around the small stage, he changes the color of his waistcoat as he discards his jacket, and he makes flowers appear out of nowhere with a simple movement of his hand—lots and lots of flowers in a multitude of colors.

A dove appears when he takes off his left glove and he lights a candle when he blows at it. It is amusing, and he smirks, just a little, knowing perfectly that everyone is enchanted by his magic.

By the end of the performance, he bows a last time to the audience, receiving their applauses with gratitude, just before he leaves the stage.

Phichit is waiting backstage and he high-fives him as he walks to the stage, ready to give his best on his own performance.

Yuuri walks as discreetly as he can to the bar. Minako is waiting for him with a big smile, offering him a big glass of water which he promptly swallows, almost drinking all the liquid in one gulp, feeling his throat refreshing, and his nerves quelling.

Minako was always present during his performances since he was a child, supervising his progress and teaching him the ways to use his magic to create new tricks.

Nowadays, she lets him perform in her snack bar in Shinjuku every time he wants to, and she makes sure to attend all his other shows when she does not have work.

On the stage, Phichit smiles. Unlike Yuuri, Phichit was born to be an entertainer. He moves with confidence on the stage and his smile never wavers. Phichit enjoys pleasing his audience and performing to show off his skills.

Yuuri watches as Phichit moves to take off his black suit jacket. He takes a moment to show both of its sides to the patrons before he shakes it, making its color change from black to pearlescent white. He lets the jacket fall to a small table he keeps by his side, and when he hovers his hand over the fabric, three identical spheres, appear under it.

The spheres are the same color as the jacket and they shine under the bright reflectors’ lights.

Phichit takes one orb and shows it to the crowd. He makes the ball move over his arm with grace, not letting it fall, not even when he balances it precariously over his fingertips. He offers the ball to a woman sitting on the front row, but when she reaches out to take it, the ball dissolves into water, dripping through Phichit fingers.

Not losing a beat, Phichit moves to take the next sphere, which he offers to a man who places his hands under Phichit’s, expecting the sphere to melt like the previous one, but ball dissolves into smoke, creating elegant circles as it ascends to the ceiling. The audience laughs, it is the king of performance that never fails to make the audience happy.

Phichit takes the last sphere in his hand and plays with it a little, throwing it to the air, and catching it with ease. He finishes his performance throwing the ball to the patrons, but it just becomes a rain of pearlescent glitter that fall on their heads but disappears before it touches the ground.

After, receiving the enthusiastic applause from the audience, Phichit walks to Yuuri and sits down on the stool next to his.

“How was it?” he asks, and Yuuri smiles softly.

“Great, you surely know how to charm the audience,” Yuuri answers.

Phichit throws an arm around Yuuri's shoulders, bringing him closer to hug him.

“You were amazing too!”

Yuuri just nods and finishes his glass of water. He does not know the next magician that has taken upon the stage after Phichit, but she taps a glass of water with her fingers and it transforms into a bunny.

Minako places a glass in front of Phichit and he takes a sip.

“Do you know what’s new about Viktor?” Phichit asks out of sudden.

Yuuri sighs. “Not really.”

“I heard rumors about new magic tricks he added to his shows,” Phichit explains with a smile. “Don’t you want to go and see them? You still like his performances, right?”

Yuuri just shrugs. A while ago, he would have run to see Viktor’s show as soon as he was sure of where the other magicians was performing, but now he doubts, not feeling like the fanboy he used to be when he was younger. Then again, a lot of things have changed since he was a starry-eyed teenager, and even more changes have followed Viktor's spontaneous moving to Tokyo.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

“Come on.” Phichit takes him by the wrist, leading him to the entrance to take their coats. “It's going to be cool! I'm curious of what Viktor plans to do to surprise the audience right now.”

Yuuri smiles apologetically at Minako before Phichit pushes him out of the small snack bar to the street. Yuuri puts on his blue coat over his black tuxedo, and he takes his gloves and hat out of his pocket, grateful to have them as Tokyo's cold air hits him right on his face.

It is late, but the streets are still bursting with life. It is be nearing midnight and a lot of people are flooding the streets, enjoying Tokyo’s nightlife—the non-stopping flow of people going in and out of hostess clubs, _izakayas_ , bars and nightclubs.

“Ginza?” Yuuri asks, and Phichit smirks.

“Of course,” Phichit replies. “The Magic Castle is Viktor's favorite place to perform.”

It is true. Most of Viktor's performances take place there.

They walk to the station to catch one of the last trains of the night, it would be faster to use magic and teleport themselves there, but Yuuri thinks it is not the most pleasant of experiences.

Phichit rambles while Yuuri stays silent for the most part. He almost dreads the moment when their stop arrives, and they get out of the car, walking among the night crowd of people looking for night entertainment.

The walk to the club is a short one, and soon they find themselves at the door. Yuuri flashes his special ID to the security guy at the entrance, and he is allowed to get in.

The Magic Castle is an exclusive night club known for the magic shows every night—exhibiting flashy, astonishing, and most of the time dangerous magic tricks, that the audience loves.

Whereas Minako’s snack bar is characterized by soft jazz music, pints of beer and classic performances, the Magic Castle is the place where a more demanding audience sips expensive champagne and magicians try their best to surpass each other to win the audience’s favor.

Yuuri has performed there countless times before. His latest show being only the previous week.

He had tried something different back then—he made doves appear on his hands from feathers on fire, he made candles float around the stage like they were stars moving in the night sky, aligning them to form constellations. For the climax of his act, he danced along the rhythm of a complicated song while white flames danced on his skin, not burning or causing him any harm.

He made fire his element, and he let the world know.

Yuuri was perfectly aware of the he club’s audience love for the rush of adrenaline caused by the unpredictability that comes from seeing other people risk their lives in shows equally beautiful as dangerous.

Most of the time, Yuuri thinks his performances as not as risky as the club’s standards, where magicians try their best to be daring—and a little stupid—with their tricks on a daily basis just for the thrill of it. Judging by the audience reaction, Yuuri did it all right.

Still, playing with fire and being entirely covered by it, is not exactly an easy task. Fire is fickle, volatile and a difficult element to tame and control. The burns on Yuuri’s forearm that he got practicing are proof of the risk.

Yuuri liked his simple performances in small theaters all around the country, and he enjoyed a lot the rather traditionally magic performances in Minako’s small snack bar… but nothing can compare to the stress inducing yet exhilarating experience of performing in the Magic Castle, the most popular Magic Club in the country, ran by the Nishigori family since it was founded.

Phichit walks by Yuuri’s side. The spectacle has already started, and most likely it is one of the last of night considering the hour. There are no more than twenty-five people sitting in a semi-circle looking at the magician with amusement.

Instead of taking a seat amongst the audience, Yuuri avoids the stage and walks straight to the bar while Phichit remains closer to the audience.

“Didn’t think you’d stop by today,” Takeshi says from where he stands behind the counter. “But it’s true that Viktor is performing and it’s not like you to miss one of his shows.”

“Yeah, I was actually a little tired today, so I wasn’t sure about coming.” Yuuri smiles sheepishly.

“Want something to drink?” Takeshi asks. He does not seem entirely convinced by Yuuri’s answer, so Yuuri is grateful for the sudden change of topic.

“Just champagne,” Yuuri replies.

Not long after, he has a flute of champagne in front of him. He thanks Takeshi and he moves closer to the stage, where Phichit stands, leaning into a pillar, half hidden by the shadows.

“They say we hide our tricks under our sleeves,” Viktor is in the middle of performing a trick Yuuri knows all too well, taking off his coat and letting it fall to the floor. Unlike Yuuri, he likes to speak during the show, like he is telling a story. “What if we don’t have sleeves?”

Viktor rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, unbothered by the wrinkles that will be impossible to get rid of, until he is sure the audience can see his forearms clearly. He smirks, and a deck of cards appears in his hands with an elegant movement. His card tricks never disappoint.

On the stage, Viktor rips the cards, burns them, and restores them to their original and unscathed condition. He builds a castle of cards as tall as himself with just a flourish of his hand and he changes the cards into flower petals that fall to the ground in a colorful whirlwind.

It is not a new trick. Yuuri has seen it countless times before on previous live performances and every time he had decided to re-watch his collection of Viktor’s magic videos. There was something about the trick that was just alluring, seducing, magnetic… it was impossible to not to be captivated by every single movement, every single time.

Viktor’s magic is in one word, _mesmerizing_. He can levitate a sleeping person in the air, making their hair and clothes flow with the force of a non-existent breeze, he can make roses bloom out of nowhere when he walks, he can give new shapes to existing objects, and he can even manipulate reality for short periods of time to create the perfect scenery to make his performances unforgettable.

Viktor lives to surprise the audience, and he does his work _too_ well.

Back when Yuuri was a teen, it was easier to pay attention exclusively to Viktor’s tricks, but nowadays, it is difficult to focus just on Viktor’s magic because he has gotten to know his idol in more ways than one.

He has gotten to know how Viktor rejoices when he finds a new dish he likes, how Viktor looks when he blushes and how Viktor’s hands feel against his skin. Still, he is not exactly sure he can explain what kind of relationship he has with Viktor. Not really.

Sure, they are some kind of rivals, but there is no point denying that there is _something else_ dictating their relationship dynamics.

Viktor take a champagne glass from one of the ladies sitting closer to the stage. He covers it with a handkerchief that he produces out of his empty palm, and with an apologetic glance to Takeshi, he steps on the fragile object.

A creaking noise is perfectly audible when the glass breaks under his weight. He lifts the fabric, letting the audience take a look at the broken glass. Without a care in the world, he bends to pick the pieces, not even wincing when he cuts himself and a few droplets of blood stain his fingers.

Viktor concentrates on the shards, shaping them into something new—a glass rose—Yuuri notices as the flower is being formed before their eyes. Viktor wipes his fingers on the handkerchief, not caring about the red stains on the fabric, and turns his palm to the audience, showing them how his fingertips heal in mere seconds.

However, the trick does not end there. Viktor asks for a lighter, and the flames dance on his hand, travel up his bare arm, and go back to his palm where he holds the rose. The glass shines with a warm yet intense orange light, not quite melting the rose nor breaking it. As the flames grow, so does the glass figure. The fire dissolves into a ball of flames and Yuuri can feel the heat even from where he stands away from the stage.

With that demonstration, Yuuri is sure that Viktor is perfectly aware of Yuuri’s previous show and this is his way to answer with his own fire, his own beautiful version to use the dangerous element. Viktor even dares to acknowledge Yuuri’s presence by winking in his direction. Yuuri is not able to look at him, shifting his gaze to the floor, an old and easy way to not to delve into complicated feelings brought to life by Viktor.

The clapping is loud and long.

Yuuri does not stay until the audience stops cheering. He downs the rest of his champagne in one long gulp before he goes back to the entrance to walk out of the club, barely acknowledging Takeshi with a wave of hand as he retrieves his coat. Phichit follows him close behind.

“You’re a great magician, Yuuri,” Phichit says, when they are back outside. “One of the bests.”

Yuuri just shrugs.

A part of him knows Phichit is right. He is good, he is always alone in the stage—he is not an imitator, he is a _real_ magician. There are no mirrors, no birds hidden inside his pockets or sleeves, and no unbelievable thin wires making everything move.

If he can be proud about something, it should be the fact that all his tricks are genuine… but still, he feels like most of the time a piece of cloth that morphs into a beautiful dove is not extraordinary enough to surpass Viktor, who can reshape the entire world around him if he wants to.

Yuuri has a handful of trophies and prizes that are no comparison to Viktor’s own collection of golden trophies.

Viktor has always been older, bolder and _better_ , and Yuuri hates losing, even if it is in a game he did not asked to be part of.

Yuuri is sure he is not a mediocre magician, but he also knows that Viktor would beat him effortlessly. Even though he knows Viktor would end whatever it is going on between them if he gets tired or bored, and Yuuri is not ready to let _their_ _thing_ go.

To Yuuri’s relief, Phichit remains silent for the rest of their walk back home.

**I** t is way too late at night—or way too early in the morning—when Yuuri is resting inside his apartment. He should probably go to bed and have some nice hours of sleep, but his mind is racing, and he knows that sleep will not come to him so easily. He is waiting, and the impatience is making him restless.

A knock on the door makes him stop the absentmindedly fiddling with the deck of cards he keeps with him most of the time he is alone.

Cards are good for magic, they do not require a lot of energy to be manipulated and they also help to liberate extra energy when Yuuri feels his fingertips tingling with unreleased magic and anxiety.

Before opening the door, he throws the cards to the desk that is already overflowing with random belongings, and he undoes his shirt’s top buttons, trying to appear more at ease than he feels. He pauses for a moment when he walks past Phichit’s door to be sure his friend is asleep, but there is no strip of light under the door and he cannot hear any sound coming from the other side.

Yuuri takes a deep breath before opening the door. Viktor stands on the other side still with his stage makeup on, holding a bottle of undoubtedly expensive red wine, smirking lustfully.

Yuuri is reluctant to admit that Viktor can still make his knees wobble, no matter how many times he has seen that smile during their private meetings after a long night of performances. It is definitely worse when Viktor bites his lower lip in that seductive way of his.

Yuuri meets Viktor gaze then, his blue eyes look even more enticing lined with black.

“I was waiting for you,” Yuuri says and moves to the side to let Viktor in. “You're late,” he adds for good measure.

“Let's make the wait worthy then,” Viktor replies without missing a beat, stealing a torrid kiss from Yuuri's lips as soon as the door closes behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. ♡ :)
> 
> Comments & kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> I love making new friends, so feel free to talk about YOI to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/commeunjardin) & [tumblr](http://v-katsuki.tumblr.com)
> 
> All the chapters are already written! **Chapter 2 will be available in two weeks!** I’m sorry I won’t be able to update sooner, but I really need to focus on my exams and school projects. ~~will uni ever give me a break?~~
> 
> Until next time! 
> 
> (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ♡


	2. Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! like I promised, here’s the second chapter.
> 
> over the last 2 weeks, I read the whole fic to look for any inconsistencies/mistakes left, and that also give me the chance to update the tags. hopefully everything is covered now but I'm still going to give specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter. :)
> 
> ⚠ This chapter contains some references to depression (nothing too bad, I think?), sexual content and major character injury (non-life threatening, it’s the very last scene btw).
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this chapter! :) 

**V** iktor grew up in an orphanage with a deck of cards as the only constant on his life. He knew those cards belonged to his father once, and he liked to think that Aleksandr Sergeyevich Nikiforov was a great magician and not a compulsive gambler.

He hated his father and the fact that he barely had memories of him from the fleeting times he had seen him during his sparse visits before he left again, and again, _and again_. He hated all those broken promises to stay almost as much as he hated his mother’s tears after his father still left without remorse every single time.

He eventually forgot what it was like to have a father, but the bitter memories remain forever ingrained in his mind.

Viktor was five years old when he arrived at the orphanage after his mother died and his father disappeared from the face of earth for good, and by the time he was eight years old he had played with those cards more than with any other object. He learned to shuffle them in many ways, to throw them and to play the “is this your card?” game with the other children.

It was way too easy for him to fiddle with the cards and use them to entertain his friends, but unknowingly for him, those little and joyful games came from something bigger that lurked secretly inside of him.

His life changed when Yakov Feltsman and his wife Lilia, arrived at the orphanage looking to adopt a child. The couple talked to most of the kids living in the orphanage before Viktor got his chance. He had stood in front of the two adults feeling small and slightly intimidated, but he still smiled, even when strands of his overgrown hair had gotten into his eyes.

“Hello, I’m Viktor!” he said, feeling a little anxious.

“How old are you boy?” Yakov asked him.

“I’m eight years old, but I’ll be nine this December!” Viktor bit his lip, unsure of what to say next.

“I assure you, Viktor is a charming, lovely boy,” the social worker said. “He’s always playing with the other children here.”

“Really?” Lilia asked.

“Yes!” Viktor answered. “Wanna see a magic trick?” He took the deck of hands from his pocket.

“Sure, kid,” Yakov agreed.

“Take a card, memorize it and put it back to the deck,” he said, presenting the deck to the adults. “Oh! also don’t let me see it!”

Yakov selected one of the cards from the middle and did as told, not doubting for a second following a kid’s orders like the other adults often did. When he returned the card to the deck, Viktor shuffled the cards with a practiced ease. Then, he threw the whole deck to the air and picked a single card on its way down.

The Three of Hearts.

“Is this your card?” He asked, and Yakov nodded, looking surprised.

“I like him,” Lilia chuckled, and Viktor smiled.

The rest was history.

Lilia worked as the Mistress of the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow, and he moved there with his new guardians. Yakov was always following him around their big house, reprimanding him every time he did something that the man disapproved of, like running down the hallways, not cleaning his mud stained shoes before entering the house, or eating too many sweets before dinner.

Lilia was a less present figure in his life. She always wore fancy dresses and spent a lot of time at the dance studio. Often, she gave Viktor presents if she was happy with Viktor’s performance at school or at his dance lessons, like books or toys that otherwise Viktor could have never afford to hold in his hands.

Lilia also talked a lot about gifts and deeply hidden talents. She often asked Viktor to do things that sounded impossible but that did not stop Viktor from doing them sometimes with Yakov’s assistance, even though his guardian always looked gruffy and not really interested in childish games.

Over time, Viktor learned to reshape small objects without touching them, to make little mechanical butterflies fly, and to change the color of almost everything he touched if he was focused enough, and that was just the beginning.

“Magic is a talent you cultivate,” Lilia had said once to him. “You already have the seed, and it might take a while, but it’ll grow and one day, you’ll make it bloom.”

Viktor liked the heavy books and the curious toys, but what he loved the most, was focusing on using his magic to learn and create new magic tricks. And so he did, slowly becoming what he dreamed the father that abandoned him to be—a magician, a performer that lived for the thrill of the performance and for the praise.

Soon he started to win magic competitions all around the world. His face began to be recognized when he walked down the street. People admired him, and he got used to being admired.

Viktor was not entirely sure if he liked how he became the idealized version of the man he used to hate the most, and he was not sure of how to get rid of the guilt that appeared every time he looked in the mirror.

(He hated it without a single doubt.)

Even after years of thinking and lying on his bed at night, alone and unable to fall asleep, he kept trying to find an answer. He felt wide awake no matter how tired his body was.

The answer never came to him.

**L** ong gone were the days when Viktor was a scrawny child trying to impress his friends with frivolous card tricks and spending his free time playing with toys or reading books too big for his little hands. Now, Viktor lives performing his magic tricks for the world to see, creating more daring acts and being the center of attention.

Magic was the reason why his life improved and now, it is the reason why he feels trapped all the time. Leaving Russia has been an improvement, but the uncertainty of the future weighs down his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Chris asks. His friend sits in front of him, wearing his glasses for once, and an old knitted sweater with an ugly pattern on it. By nighttime, he will get into his _very_ tight blue skinsuit to work as the magic assistant of his latest beau.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Viktor smiles like he did not spend the last couple of minutes staring pensively at his cup of coffee.

“Really? Because you’re either too focused on that cup of coffee to hear me, or you have been plainly ignoring what I’ve been saying for the pasts few minutes,” Chris replies.

“I’m just a little tired.”

“If you say so.” Chris takes a sip of his coffee, and Viktor is sure that he is not buying his excuses at all, but he is not pushing him to talk, so it is fine.

_Everything is fine_.

“What do you think I should do for my next performance?” Viktor asks, changing their conversation subject. “I have a couple of ideas, but I’m not really sure of which one would surprise the audience the most.”

“Well, that time when you made that girl disappear was pretty cool,” Chris offers.

“That’s an old trick.” Viktor comments. “I’ve made people disappear, fly and I’ve also read their minds, and those are definitely not good enough for the culmination of my show.”

“Well, you can cut someone in half, someone with great legs.” Chris wiggles his eyebrows.

Before Viktor can answer his phone vibrates inside his pocket. It takes him a second to take it out and look at the screen. It is another call from Yuri Plisetsky: he rejects it, pocketing his phone again.

“The Little Magician of Russia, I suppose?” Chris smirks.

“Yes, him.” Viktor nods. “I guess I only have some minutes of peace left.”

Yuri Plisetsky is barely fifteen years old, but he is already known all around the world as a magic prodigy. His shows are always characterized by loud music, screaming, fire and big cats. Brash and reckless displays of talent conceived by the mind of an angry teen.

He got a call from Yuri for the first time after the teen made a tiger appear inside a cage while being inside the cage himself, as the music was deafening and the whole stage was covered in flames. Yuri asked— _demanded_ —him to go back to Russia to be defeated in a magic duel.

Viktor refused, nevertheless he gained a shadow in the form of a fifteen-year-old boy following him around until he finally accepted to be crushed by _Yuri’s obviously superior magic_. (The teen’s words, not his.)

“Are you stopping by Yuuri’s show later?” Chris asks. “Katsuki, not the angry Russian one,” he clarifies when Viktor arches an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” Viktor sighs. It has been two whole weeks since he saw Yuuri for the last time, when they spent the early morning lazily sipping wine and kissing, with hands wandering down their waistlines and soft moans filling the silence.

He had pressed a searing kiss to Yuuri’s mouth before he left, just as the sun was coming up, and Yuuri had answered with another kiss—shorter and sweeter, just before saying goodbye.

It was not the first time it happened, but it is definitely the first time that Yuuri has avoided him for so long afterward.

“Well, I hear is going to be awesome,” Chris insists.

“Then, I’ll try my best to be there,” Viktor promises with a small smile.

The door slams open and an angry Yuri Plisetsky looks defiantly at him.

“Viktor!” Yuri exclaims, walking inside the small café. “Are you ready to be defeated?”

“Yura, how many times do I have to tell you?” Viktor stands from his seat, taking his wallet out of his pocket to pay for his coffee. “You’re too young to be picking up challenges with people almost twice your age.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Yuri argues.

“Whatever you say, Yura.” Viktor ruffles Yuri’s hair until his hand gets slapped away.

If anything, Yuri looks angrier. “Don't treat me like a child, you old fu–”

“I think we should go now,” Viktor interrupts, placing the money on the table, next to his barely touched coffee.

“Say hi to Yuuri for me!” Chris exclaims and Viktor nods.

“See you!” Viktor waves, walking out the café with the annoyed boy following close behind.

Viktor walks in the direction to the station to make Yuri go home with his grandfather and cat until he is older, or permanently if he is lucky.

“How did you find me this time?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Yuri takes a handkerchief from his pocket, one that is definitely Viktor’s. “I tracked you down.”

Viktor reaches for the handkerchief but Yuri pockets it again with a huff. The boy was getting too good at using his magic to find him in no time, something even more impressive in a city as big and as populated as Tokyo. It was something admirable considering that Yuri most likely spent a big part of his energy to arrive in Japan.

“That’s pretty impressive,” Viktor says, walking down the stairs of the station.

“It’s not that hard.” Yuri shrugs.

Viktor is aware that tracking is a difficult thing to do, but he also knows how Yuri is stubborn and talented enough to keep practicing until he can use big amounts of magic without exhausting himself, until he can master difficult tricks that usually take years to learn.

“Your train home is here,” Viktor teases.

Yuri rolls his eyes, ignoring the rush of people that surround him. He moves to one of the public areas used for magical transportation located in a corner of the station—a magician’s easiest and fastest way of transportation, that is, if they got the energy to spare.

“One day, I’ll crush you,” Yuri promises, glaring daggers at Viktor, before disappearing in a blast of cobalt smoke.

Viktor is sure he will keep trying until he does.

**V** iktor goes to the Magic Castle later that night, and it is not a surprise when he finds a crowd already gathering outside. Some patrons ask for a picture with him when he walks past them, and he agrees unable to deny his fans’ wishes, but moving to get inside as fast as he can.

A big tank full of water is already placed in the middle of the stage. Viktor knows Yuuri is the first magician scheduled for the night. He also knows that Yuuri is not a fan of going headfirst into a claustrophobic space to defy death.

Viktor orders a glass of wine and he takes a seat close to the stage. People with elegant clothes and equally fancy liquor glasses sit close to him, some of them greeting Viktor.

All the tables surrounding the stage get occupied eventually, and when the lights dim, it is time for the show. The audience claps, excited. A single light shines upon Yuuri, who is standing on the stage, wearing a skin-tight suit, and looking incredibly handsome.

Yuuri waves at the crowd and bows. The rhinestones of his sleek black suit shine under the stage lights. Like always, he throws a ball of light to the ceiling where it explodes, showering the stage in white sparkles. It is Yuuri’s trademark after all, the small yet fascinating prelude to his show.

Yuuri takes a bunch of handkerchiefs out of thin air, throwing them up in the air, and everyone watches as the fabric explode in a multitude of rose petals—pink, red, and blue. Viktor smiles, because it is a nice trick, but not the main event. That would be the water tank, which is being surrounded by petals, completely ignored by Yuuri.

The performance continues and Yuuri continues avoiding the water tank until his running time is almost up. He makes a show of walking around the tank. Viktor focuses on Yuuri’s movements—the way his legs flex and the hand that caress the glass softly, in a delicate way, like the soft caress of a lover.

Yuuri’s fingers leave elegant lines on the crystal surface, silver swirls that appear when his fingers slide to a new section of the tank.

Yuuri finally moves to the stairs next to the tank and goes up one step at time. On the top, Phichit waits for him, and he is fast to handcuff Yuuri’s wrists and ankles.

“A great escape in a minute or less!” Phichit exclaims and a clock appears behind them as well as a second tank behind the main one, one that contains a big shark and that is connected to the tank Yuuri is intending to jump into, a door is the only thing that separates both.

Yuuri jumps into the tank, waving to the crowd. The clock starts its countdown.

_Fifty seconds… forty seconds… thirty seconds._

The audience is quietly watching the stage, some ladies at the front row whisper amongst them. Yuuri struggles with the handcuffs.

_Twenty seconds… ten seconds._

More whispers. Yuuri is still inside the tank.

_Five seconds._

A torrent of bubbles fills the tank entirely, and moment later they dissipate as the shark’s door opens and the predator is finally free to swim to Yuuri’s tank, as the audience gasps in awe, however, it is completely empty, and the perplexed assistants look for the missing magician to no avail.

The spotlight moves to the farthest table. Yuuri is standing on the table with his arms extended, soaking wet and as gorgeous as ever. Viktor can almost see the droplets sliding all the way down Yuuri’s neck to his collarbone, and he bites his lower lip, lamenting the fact that he is not seated closer to the back where Yuuri is gracing everyone with his singular presence.

Yuuri walks backstage with a last bow and Viktor wonders if he should follow him. It is a train of thought that last about a minute during which he finishes his glass of wine and the curtains of the stage go down to prepare for the next performance.

Viktor stands up from his chair, deciding to indeed follow Yuuri backstage. He walks to a hidden door exclusively for performers. It is dark, and he can clearly hear the audience’s applause when a new magician takes the stage.

Yuuri is one of the few performers who has a personal dressing room—one of the perks of being friends with the owners and being a regular presence on the stage. It is easy to identify thanks to the golden plate on the door with Yuuri’s name written in kanji. The once unknown characters now occupy a permanent and special place in Viktor’s memory.

Viktor knocks on the door, hearing a muffled “come in” in Japanese as an answer, and so he opens the door, his eyes immediately focusing on Yuuri who is drying himself with a white fluffy towel.

“What a lovely performance, _milyi_ ,” Viktor says upon entering the room, closing the door behind him.

Yuuri looks at him for the first time, perhaps a little startled, like Viktor is the last person he expected to see.

“Viktor…” he whispers.

“Hey,” Viktor greets, getting closer to the younger magician, not quite touching him, but close enough to do so.

“What are you doing here?” Yuuri asks, returning to his tasks of drying himself, ruffling his hair in an unintentionally sexy way.

“I came to see your performance,” Viktor answers.

“I know, I saw you out there, I mean _here_.”

“I came to see you.” Viktor places his hand on Yuuri’s bicep, feeling the wet fabric under his palm. He caresses Yuuri’s arm slowly, feels his bicep tighten under his fingertips.

Yuuri takes a step back to take another towel from his vanity’s drawer. It almost looks like a dare, when Yuuri slips out of his suit, half looking at Viktor, exposing his naked torso to his eyes. Viktor cannot help himself when he wraps his arms around Yuuri, noticing how cold his skin actually is.

Yuuri shivers a little, not necessarily from the cold if his dilated pupils are anything to go by, and he wraps the dry towel even tighter around himself.

“Why did you come to see me?” Yuuri asks, half burying his face on the fabric.

“The answer is simple, I just wanted to see you. It’s been a while since we got the chance to talk,” Viktor replies. “Did you just jump into icy water?”

“Hmm, yes, it was a last-minute decision and we barely got the time to fill the tank, let alone doing it with warmer water.”

“It was great,” Viktor whispers into Yuuri’s nape, pressing a fleeting kiss there. “A classic escapism trick, but with your unique charm.”

“Glad you liked it.” Yuuri turns around to give him a proper kiss, and Viktor feels Yuuri’s cold lips moving eagerly against his warm mouth.

Viktor focuses on devouring Yuuri’s mouth until his lips are no longer cold and he can feel Yuuri’s warm breath on his face. Kissing Yuuri feels so right, and Viktor definitely enjoys the soft yet persistent pressure of Yuuri’s mouth against his. It is hot and nice, and he would kiss Yuuri all day, _every single day_ of his life if he could.

“I don’t know yet what I’m going to do to compete against that,” Viktor says, leaning in for another kiss, but Yuuri stays frozen in his place.

Then, Yuuri turns around, returning to his task of getting out of his wet clothes and drying himself.

For a rather long minute, Viktor wonders what he should do, what he did wrong for Yuuri to suddenly push him away. Viktor just ends up sitting on the small couch inside the room and waits, giving Yuuri space.

It is not until later when Yuuri is wearing a warm hoodie, worn-out jeans and his sneakers that he returns his gaze to Viktor.

“Wanna go to get something hot to drink? We can go to a nearby café,” Yuuri suggests as he takes his glasses from the top of the vanity.

“Yes,” Viktor agrees, noticing how his voice sounds like a breathless whisper.

They walk together to the exit, and they retrieve their winter coats from the closet by the entrance. Even though it is getting late, the coffee shop is still bustling with activity and they barely manage to find a free table.

Yuuri orders a cup of hot chocolate and a muffin, while Viktor just orders black coffee, not feeling particularly hungry or in the mood to eat something sweet.

“How did you put that shark into the tank?” Viktor asks.

“Well, it wasn’t actually a _real_ shark,” Yuuri answers, taking a sip of his beverage. “I used a transmutation spell on a goldfish. After the show, it returned to its original size and species. I’m sure it is now back in the Nishigori girls’ fishbowl.”

Yuuri laughs and Viktor wonders what he did to deserve Yuuri. Beautiful, wonderful Yuuri who always looks at him with bright brown eyes, who smiles when he smiles, and who giggles in such a cute way that make Viktor want to kiss him every time.

“It’s been a while since we did something like this,” he says after a moment of warm fuzzy feelings filling his chest. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Yuuri mumbles sheepishly.

Viktor lifts Yuuri’s hand to press a soft kiss to his knuckles, the smile he gets in return is too precious to put into words.

“It’s almost your birthday,” Viktor says. “Is there something that you want? Somewhere you want to go to celebrate?”

“Not really,” Yuuri answers. “I guess I haven’t really thought about my birthday.”

“Well, if you think of something, just tell me.” Viktor winks at Yuuri.

Yuuri does not reply, but he squeezes Viktor hand.

It is late when they walk back home, still warm from the hot drinks and the nice ambiance. They pause on a crossroad to wait for their turn to cross, and for a moment Viktor just looks at Yuuri. How his brown eyes shine in the dim light and how the passing lights make his features look softer and beautiful.

Viktor _might_ be in love.

Somewhere along the way, Yuuri got into his heart, and now he cannot imagine his life without him.

Viktor tugs Yuuri a little closer when they are free to walk again, getting into the subway station along with a crowd of people returning home after a long day. Viktor is aware that Yuuri prefers to board the non-magic train when he does not have to travel far. Viktor does not mind, not when Yuuri rests his head on Viktor’s shoulder inside the train car until they arrive at their destination.

Soon enough they find themselves in front of Yuuri’s apartment door. Viktor is ready to say goodbye, but Yuuri kisses him, pressing his tongue insistently against Viktor’s lower lip, and Viktor opens his mouth to let Yuuri deepen the kiss.

After that admittedly _great_ kiss, Viktor feels breathless and Yuuri smiles playfully, pulling Viktor into the apartment by his scarf, without even bothering to turn on the lights, barely giving him time to kick off his shoes.

Viktor’s plans of saying goodbye go out the window when he feels Yuuri’s erection rubbing against his crotch. Yuuri bites his earlobe and Viktor moans when Yuuri press kisses along the column of his neck.

Viktor pushes Yuuri down, making him stumble into the couch. He follows close behind, placing his knees on either side of Yuuri as he reaches down to try to open his pants.

Yuuri’s hands wander up and down Viktor’s chest: down to his waistline and up to his collarbone. Yuuri teases him, stopping just below Viktor’s navel, before he rubs his palm against Viktor’s still clothed and pretty obvious erection.

“Maybe… we should… move to your bedroom,” Viktor says between hot kisses. In response Yuuri catches his lower lip between his teeth and tugs a little.

“Phichit won’t be home for at least another hour, that’s enough time.”

“Then, touch me,” Viktor whispers into Yuuri’s ear, kicking off his pants, and hurrying to take off his remaining clothes.

“Like this?” Yuuri asks, wrapping his hand around Viktor’s cock, tracing the head with his thumb. Viktor moans.

“Yes, just like that,” Viktor whispers, rocking into Yuuri’s hand.

“Wait a moment.” Yuuri stands up to take off his jeans.

Viktor half-drags Yuuri on top of him, letting Yuuri push him down to rest against the cushions. Yuuri takes hold of both of their cocks and Viktor closes his eyes, arching his back, feeling thankful for the comfortable couch.

“Yes, that’s definitely better.” Viktor gasps.

Yuuri smiles, half closing his eyes, and for a moment, Viktor focuses on Yuuri and _only_ on Yuuri.

The apartment curtains are half open and the bright lights from outside make everything look like the room is bathed in moonlight—a soft white glow that makes Yuuri’s skin shine softly. He cannot take his eyes off him.

Viktor is _sure_ he is in love.

The orgasm makes him close his eyes and moan shamelessly as Yuuri keeps jerking him off until he is sure he is totally spent. It was _too_ good.

They lie together in the afterglow. Viktor presses kisses all over Yuuri’s collarbone and in return Yuuri slides his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp in a soothing way. Viktor almost falls asleep but then he remembers that their hour is almost up and that he really needs to get back home to take care of his dog.

Yuuri seems a little disappointed when Viktor stands up to clean himself and get dressed. Viktor almost takes upon his offer to stay the night, but instead he walks to the door, sluggishly not really wanting to leave. He makes a mental note to invite Yuuri to his apartment the next time.

“Next week, come to Hasetsu with me,” Yuuri whispers suddenly, when Viktor is kneeling on the floor, tying his shoes.

“It’s your hometown, right?” Viktor asks.

Yuuri has mentioned the city a couple of times, has mentioned that his family runs an _onsen_ , but that was it. Viktor knows basically nothing about Yuuri’s birthplace, but it is also true that he has not spoken much about his life in Saint Petersburg either.

“Yeah, it’s a coast city in Western Japan,” Yuuri explains. “I’m actually going back for my birthday; my mother has been urging me to visit for a while now.”

“Sure, I’ll go.” Viktor heart skips a beat at the chance of getting to know more about Yuuri’s life. “But you have to go to see my show when we get back.”

Yuuri smiles for a moment. Then, he says: “You know I won’t miss it.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Viktor kisses Yuuri one last time, and it is almost good enough to forget about going back home, but as much as Viktor wants to indulge in another round of sex, he knows that Makkachin is waiting for him.

He leaves, still savoring Yuuri’s taste on his lips, secretly desiring to touch and to be touched until he cannot remember who he is.

**V** iktor takes a deep breath as he buttons his suit jacket. On the other side of the curtain, his fans wait for him and he is excited to surprise them like he loves to do during every performance.

When the indigo curtains finally part before him, he steps on the stage confidently, receiving the applauses with an elegant bow.

Viktor spots Yuuri sitting amidst the audience closer to the stage than he had been in a while, and he smiles, winking at him. He chuckles when Yuuri smiles a little and looks down at his glass of bubbly champagne.

Since they got back from Hasetsu after celebrating Yuuri’s birthday with his family, their relationship has shifted yet again, and Viktor is still figuring out what exactly has changed between them.

If he is sure of one thing, is that having someone to celebrate with is making him look forward to his own birthday in a way he has not experienced before. Three weeks seem too long, but he knows time actually flies.

“Thank you everyone for your support,” Viktor says when the cheers stop. “The World Championship of Magic will take place in a little over than a month and I’ll do my best to make a show worthy of the competition.”

Everyone claps again.

“But now that we’re here, let’s starts this show now.” Viktor smiles, retrieving a marble from his pocket.

Viktor closes his hands, quickly changing the ball’s shape into a small horse, and he kneels to place the figure on the floor, right in the middle of the stage.

“When I was child I used to wonder why we should bother making accurate toys if we can’t make them move?”

He brushes his fingers over the mane of the crystal horse and it comes to life as soon as Viktor touches it. Everyone claps and the small horse trots around the stage, getting bigger and bigger with every step until it is the size of a stallion.

He repeats his actions, creating a bird the second time and a handful of butterflies the third.

The audience look fascinated when the bird flies around them, chirping and fluttering its wings naturally like a real bird would do. Viktor changes the scenery then, for a moment, everyone sees a plateau surrounded by green hills and colorful flowers, as the crystal animals move delicately, almost like it is a scene right out a fairy tale.

The illusion ends when Viktor snaps his fingers—once for the green plateau to disappear like mist, and twice for the animals to move like they are travelling back in time, shrinking until they are no bigger than mere toys for small kids.

Everyone claps and cheers as Viktor bends down to pick up the figurines, placing them on a small table that he keeps by his side. He bows, thanking the audience for their attention so far.

His time on the stage is almost up, but he still has another trick.

“I’ll do something different for my next trick,” Viktor announces, moving to the highest section of the stage where a platform is ensembled.

The lights are almost blinding when he caresses a crystalline box placed on top of the platform.

“I’ll get into this box and I’ll have forty-five seconds to get out of it,” Viktor explains. “That sounds pretty easy, but the difficult thing will be that the box will fill with water as the time passes, and it is also connected to a lantern wick that will set the whole stage on fire if I fail!”

The audience claps and cheers undoubtedly excited to see Viktor risking his life. For a moment, Viktor shifts his gaze to see Yuuri again, but he looks distracted, almost too focused on his glass.

Viktor does not have time to feel disappointed.

He takes off his jacket, and he lets Yuuko help him to secure the handcuffs around his wrist and ankles, uncomfortably sitting inside the box that is too small for someone of his size. He is not much of a fan of very enclosed spaces, but his fans are watching, so Viktor just smiles and waves amicably, or at least he tries to wave while still wearing the constricting handcuffs.

The lantern wick gets lighted, and the countdown starts.

_Forty seconds, thirty seconds._

Viktor starts opening the handcuffs around his ankles, he can feel the cold water soaking his clothes unpleasantly. The water, more than a difficulty element, has the purpose of acting like a protective barrier against the heat if something goes wrong. Even though Viktor was sure that there would be no danger for him or for anyone surrounding the stage.

His plan is simple—break free before the countdown ends and extinguish the flame consuming the wick. In the case the main plan fails, he is ready to contain the fire before it can spread all over the stage.

The spell is a complicated one, and Viktor is focused, murmuring and tracing a rune on the metallic surface of the handcuffs.

_Twenty seconds, ten seconds._

Viktor now struggles to open the next pair of handcuffs. The water covers him until his waist, and he hurries to repeat the same spell. He is almost done when he looks upwards and he notices _it_ as the words die on his lips.

A mistake.

Viktor _never_ makes mistakes. Not ever since he was rookie, but now, he sees it clearly.

He forgot to secure the upper part of the platform that supports the burning torch—basically, if he makes a quick movement the whole structure could collapse, but if he does not hurry, the fire could damage something or _someone_.

Viktor curses himself for being so careless. The Nishigoris even offered to double check the platform before the show but Viktor refused, too blinded by his own confidence.

Viktor barely frees himself on time, but he does not have enough time to move. For a fleeting second, he tries to scream, to tell everyone to move, but it is futile. The fire starts and as if that is not enough, the whole platform collapses under its own weight.

Viktor jumps.

Takeshi Nishigori is on the stage in a second, along with two guys from the security staff. He lifts his hand to quell the flames, but they still need to use the extinguishers to extinguish the spreading fire.

Viktor feels somehow numb and too out of breath. He tries to stand up but a wave of scorching pain travels along his body and an ugly crack makes him wince.

He pants, trying to recover his breath, not really noticing the small flame on his shoulder until someone—the security guy who cannot use magic at all—takes a fire extinguisher and showers him in chemical powder.

Viktor’s ankle hurts, but that pain is nothing compared to the pain of his heart breaking when he notices Yuuri in the middle of the hysteric crowd, looking at him like he just died. His eyes are filled with worry and hopelessness, like his own heart is breaking too.

Viktor notices how much Yuuri is trembling and how his hands are curled into fists, probably to try to stop their tremors. Yuuri keeps his gaze down and he turns around, like he cannot bring himself to look at Viktor any longer.

Viktor wants to follow him, to grab Yuuri’s sleeve before he runs away, to tell him that he is okay, that _maybe_ he was an ambitious idiot, but that he is truly fine.

Despite of his injured ankle, Viktor tries to run, to walk, to do something, but his ankle protests and a new wave of intense pain travels around his body. He whimpers, something that makes Yuuri look back at him just before he falls to his knees and cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~sorry vitya~~ anyway, I hope y’all like angst, because I’m just getting started. ;) 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! ❤ Don’t forget that comments always make my day (♡), and kudos are also cool and greatly appreciated! :D
> 
> wanna know what happened in Hasetsu??? well, what happens in Hasetsu, stays in Hasetsu ;) jk lol
> 
> According to [my research](https://www.lingq.com/blog/2018/06/01/russian-terms-of-endearment/), mилый [ _milyi/milyj_ ] means dear, darling. :)
> 
> also I made a [twitter moment](https://twitter.com/i/moments/1049071551633666049) & a [tumblr tag](http://v-katsuki.tumblr.com/tagged/icimwiwy-fic) for this fic lol. like always, feel free to talk to me there.
> 
> **Chapter 3 will be available on October 30th!** ~~after I turn in an important project that I’ve yet to start~~ :’) like I said in my previous note, I’m sorry for the not being able to update sooner, but I’m currently trying to survive my last semester of uni _(:ì」∠)_
> 
> Until next time! 
> 
> o͡͡͡╮༼ ಠДಠ ༽╭o͡͡͡━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ♡


	3. Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! :) lol
> 
> I’m posting this chapter a day earlier than planned because school was canceled today. \0/
> 
> ⚠ This chapter contains: a panic attack (you can skip it altogether if you don’t feel comfortable reading it: just ignore the scene after the flashback until the next page divider), brief hospitalization, and brief mentions of injury and blood.
> 
> I hope y’all will still like this chapter because it has a couple of my favorite scenes! :) 

**Y** uuri stared with surprise at the mint chocolate chip ice cream that Viktor was kindly offering him. He had mentioned only once that he liked that flavor and Viktor remembered it. That definitely made his heart skip a beat or two.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said, accepting the cone.

Viktor just smiled in return, going back to his task of eating his own ice cream before the scorching weather of Tokyo in summer melted it completely.

Yuuri savored a small portion of his ice cream. It was refreshing, and he hummed at the sweet aftertaste of it.

“Let’s go to the park.” Viktor grabbed his hand and walked toward Ueno Park’s doors, crossing the street and moving along with the crowd.

Viktor guided Yuuri along a seemingly random path, smiling at the other pedestrians and eating his ice cream with delight, occasionally pushing his sunglasses back when they slid down his nose. Yuuri blushed, feeling his heart racing when he realized that Viktor did not let his hand go.

It was not usual for them to hang out where anyone could see them, not when intrusive reporters and fans wanted to question them about the real nature of their relationship. It was even stranger for them to engage in any kind of public display of affection, even something as innocuous as hand holding.

When the ice cream was gone, Viktor found a bench for them to sit down and rest for a while. It was too hot and Yuuri took off his baseball cap to fan himself with it, not that it helped much.

“Is this the first time you came here?” Viktor asked.

“No, once I came here for _hanami_ ,” Yuuri answered.

During last March, Phichit had urged him to go outside to stand below the cherry trees and be part of the celebration, something that Yuuri had not done since he left his hometown.

“I’d love to see the trees next spring,” Viktor said, getting closer to Yuuri in a flirtatious manner. “It’d be better if you’re with me to show me the best places to do so.”

Acting on an impulse, Yuuri reached to take Viktor’s sunglasses and remove them from his face. Viktor’s eyes looked too bright, too blue, and Yuuri wanted to drown in them.

Viktor was so close Yuuri could smell the cloying raspberry fragrance of the ice cream he was enjoying a moment ago, and for a second it seemed like Viktor was leaning in to get a kiss. Yuuri just ducked his head, suddenly interested in his shoes, in the path beneath his feet, in the people passing by; in anything that could slow down the frantic rhythm of his heart.

Their relationship was still too new and _too_ _strange_. To Yuuri it was still difficult to believe that Viktor was a real person by his side after years of admiration from afar. Thinking of Viktor as someone who _desired_ him, was too overwhelming sometimes.

“Sure.” Yuuri finally breathed, putting some distance between them, returning the sunglasses to Viktor’s hands. “I’d love to do that.”

Viktor smiled at him and Yuuri wondered if Viktor would be by his side for another eight months, if he would be still there for the next _hanami_. An idea struck him.

Yuuri got back to his feet to pick up a fallen leaf from the ground, placing his baseball cap back on his head. He touched it softly, closing his hands around it and opening them after a beat to reveal a perfect cherry blossom.

“Here, take it,” Yuuri whispered.

When Viktor’s fingertips touched the flower, the scenery around them changed—the cherry trees were blooming again, and pink petals were tumbling down to the ground.

“Yuuri!” Viktor beamed at Yuuri, throwing his arms around him, hugging him a bit too tight. “Thanks! I love this.”

Yuuri nodded. To any other person walking by their side, the trees would look like they always did during summer, it was an illusion created just for two, a memory only they would keep.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Yuuri replied.

Yuuri did not think too much before he wrapped his arms around Viktor’s neck, standing on his tiptoes to press a soft kiss to Viktor’s lips. The cap brim grazed Viktor cheek and he giggled. Yuuri felt dazed and euphoric at the same time.

Yuuri was still not used to the fact that Viktor liked him enough to let him kiss him, and to even kiss him back when Yuuri worked up the courage for a kiss. Everything about Viktor left Yuuri feeling dizzy but wanting more. It was something that Yuuri had never experienced before.

“Now I know that I have to see the trees when the flowers bloom for real.” Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hand with a smile.

Yuuri tried to smile too, not sure if that would ever happen. He raised his arm and extinguished the magic with a flair. The illusion disappeared, and they found themselves back in the present. Viktor tenderly wrapped the cherry blossom with his handkerchief and placed it inside his pocket.

“Let’s go to the pond now, we can rent a boat!” Viktor proclaimed after a moment of silence.

Yuuri followed Viktor around for the rest of the day, letting Viktor snap pictures of him and choose a ramen place for them to have lunch. The sun was setting when Viktor invited him to his apartment and Yuuri almost collided with a mailbox. He was unable to hide his surprise, but he could not say _no_.

Viktor’s apartment was big and spacious for Tokyo’s standards, with books piled on every surface, among other things that make it look like a home—like the sweater draped over a chair and Makkachin’s bed placed in the corner. It looked _too good_ to be just a temporary residence.

After a day spent under the sun, Viktor’s nose was a little red and his lips looked dry despite of the plenty of water he had drunk to remain hydrated and the liberal amount of lip balm Yuuri had seen him using.

Yuuri’s shoulders were sore after the time he spent trying to move the boat without magic, failing at it. Viktor had laughed and helped him, creating discreet waves around the boat to make it move.

Viktor opened the door and Makkachin jumped at Yuuri when they walked through the threshold, knocking his baseball cap to the ground, and making Yuuri lose his footing, barely managing to stay on his feet thanks to Viktor’s arm around his waist.

“Makkachin missed you,” Viktor whispered in his ear.

Yuuri kneeled to scratch behind Makkachin’s ears.

“I also missed her,” Yuuri said. It was true, it had been a while since he got the chance to see Viktor’s dog and he had missed her adorableness.

When Yuuri got back to his feet, Viktor kissed him, and he felt his heart racing inside his chest. Viktor’s kisses still had the power to steal Yuuri’s breath, and he loved it.

Feeling bold, Yuuri bit Viktor’s lower lip, sucking lightly on it and Viktor gasped and held him even closer. They were still discovering what the other liked and every time Yuuri got something right, he felt elated.

After a while of letting their hands and feet wander around, Viktor made them fall together to the bed. Yuuri placed kisses all over Viktor’s neck, and Viktor traced patterns all over his sides and back, making Yuuri feel giddy.

It was too hot, hotter because of the summer heat, and Yuuri moved to lie on Viktor’s side, panting and trying to straighten his ruffled clothes. By his side, Viktor seemed content and Yuuri sighed, feeling overwhelmed.

“Can we keep this as a secret?” Yuuri asked, his voice sounded too small, too insecure, _too fragile_.

Viktor took a moment to answer, a few seconds that felt too long for Yuuri, almost like an eternity.

“Sure,” Viktor answered, burying his face in Yuuri’s shoulder. “We can take all the time in the world until you feel comfortable.”

Viktor smiled, nuzzling his face into Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri turned around, his lips brushing Viktor’s scalp. He could smell the remnants of Viktor’s shampoo along with sweat.

Yuuri almost gave in and kissed Viktor’s neck again. It was not a lie that he wanted to do so, it might had been too obvious how much he wanted to press Viktor down into the mattress to ravish him.

Instead, Yuuri remained where he was, feeling too hot where Viktor was touching him, but unable to move away, not even to turn on the air conditioning.

Yuuri could keep lying to himself, convince himself that he was not falling in love with Viktor, but in reality, he was already infatuated and that was not changing so easily.

It was easier to let the world think that they hated each other, that their relationship was limited to short and barely friendly outings or that they were nothing more than rivals that did not care about the other. At least, if they kept their relationship secret, Yuuri would not have to deal with the unending questions from the entire world if— _when_ —Viktor finally decided to leave.

**O** nce, when Viktor was a little over twenty years old, he cut himself with a knife by accident right in the middle of his show. Yuuri had watched the video on his family’s computer, late at night after the inn’s clients and his family went to sleep. He had hugged his pillow close to his chest and gasped when he saw the blood.

Viktor’s white gloves had gotten stained as the knife cut through them and red droplets had fell to rug below his feet, yet Viktor did not waver for a second and the show continued. Viktor kept his hand in a fist for the rest of the performance, and by the end of it, when he lifted both arms to greet the crowd, a fine trail of blood made its way down his forearm.

A couple of days later, Viktor announced to his Twitter followers that he required seven stitches but that his hand was recovering well, and that he would be returning to the stage soon. Viktor also posted a picture, in which he was smiling, hugging Makkachin and showing his bandaged hand.

Eventually, Viktor learned the right way to heal small skin lacerations. Besides the small cuts on his fingertips when he was manipulating shards of glass, Yuuri cannot remember another time where Viktor had injured himself—and that makes the whole incident scarier.

Sure, Viktor is bold, but he is also _really_ careful—every trick, every moment, _every single second_ is perfectly planned and rehearsed in advance. Viktor does not leave room for mistakes, ever. He never loses his concentration, he _knows_ that not being focused might be dangerous, not only for him, but for the audience too.

However, sometimes accidents are still unavoidable. The last time it happened Viktor smiled like he was not in pain, he did not step out of the stage and he finished the show. But now, he sits on the floor with Takeshi’s hand on his shoulder supporting him as they wait for the emergency services to arrive.

Viktor’s face reflects pain—he is too pale, and his jaw is too tense. He is frowning, and his mouth is set in a hard line. Yuuri cannot bear to look at him.

Yuuri stands up, ignoring the way his legs tremble. He manages to take a step back and then another, however his knees wobble too much, and he is unable to stay on his feet any longer.

He stumbles, falls again as the tears slide down his cheeks for a second time.

The task of getting air into his lungs seems impossible, like something is suddenly constricting his windpipe, and Yuuri gasps, placing both of his hands on his chest. He can feel the wild beating of his heart on his palms, he feels like his lungs are on fire and he cannot stop the tears.

Yuuko kneels in front of Yuuri, not touching him but still remaining close.

“Follow the rhythm of my breathing,” Yuuko whispers.

Yuuri cannot do it. He feels like he just sprinted a marathon, like the world is spinning around him and every breath he takes burns inside his chest. Still, he reaches to touch Yuuko’s shoulder, letting her wrap her fingers gently around his hand.

“Come on, breathe just like I do,” Yuuko repeats. “Let’s try to keep the air inside our lungs for four seconds.”

Yuuri _tries_. He wants to tell Yuuko that he is trying but no words come out of his mouth—it is still impossible to keep the air inside his lungs for an appropriate period of time.

He is not sure of how much time passes, but he can hear the paramedics arriving, he hears them getting closer to Viktor, asking him questions to evaluate how conscious he is. He can hear Viktor’s strained voice, his sloppy and accented Japanese as he talks to the paramedics, and he whimpers as a fresh wave of tears floods his eyes.

“You don’t have to look,” Yuuko whispers.

Yuuri does not turn around, even though he is _slightly_ tempted to do so. He just nods and holds Yuuko’s hand even tighter, trying to block out the noise of the ruckus happening around. He tries casting a shaky spell to surround them in a soundproof bubble when he discovers that he cannot do it.

It feels like an eternity, but eventually, his breathing and the wild rhythm of his heart go back to normal. His legs are still too wobbly when he tries to stand up and Takeshi has to help him move to a chair so he can sit.

Yuuri feels pretty much useless. He did nothing to help Viktor and now, he cannot even stand on his own two feet without help. Viktor would have been more helpful as he also knows healing magic, something that is definitely not Yuuri’s forte.

After a moment, Yuuko approaches Yuuri with a glass of water and a plate of cookies.

“I called Phichit, he’s coming soon,” Yuuko says.

Yuuri just nods, sitting in silence, repeating his breathing exercises and half munching on a cookie until Phichit runs through the door, looking worried.

“Yuuri, are you all right?” Phichit asks.

“Yeah, I feel better now,” Yuuri answers. His voice sounds hoarse, but it was to be expected.

“Do you want to go home?” Phichit asks.

Yuuri just nods, letting Phichit grab his hand to guide him to the closet to retrieve his coat.

It is too cold outside, colder than it usually gets during the first week of December, and Yuuri’s hands tremble when he hastily wraps his scarf around his neck.

He feels completely exhausted and he leans on Phichit as they walk into the subway station. Yuuri looks at the magical transportation area with frustration. Any other day, he would prefer to avoid it and the inconvenience of magic traveling—like feeling dizzy afterward, or too cold, and feeling disoriented and confused during travel. Now, he wants to go there, willing to do whatever that would make them arrive home sooner.

However, Yuuri is too drained physically and mentally to even attempt that way of transport, proving himself right when he almost falls asleep during the short ride back home.

“Yuuri,” Phichit starts when they are inside their shared apartment, and Yuuri shakes his head, letting his coat fall to the ground.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Yuuri whispers. His voice still sounds too hoarse and he clears his throat.

“It’s all right, just rest,” Phichit says. “If you need anything, just tell me. I’ll be awake for a while, I have to study for a test I have tomorrow.”

“Sure, thanks.” Yuuri drags himself to his bedroom, closing the door behind him, and collapses onto his bed.

Yuuri feels too restless even though the strong rush of emotions from before makes him feel mentally exhausted. He is frustrated and that keeps him awake for a while until the exhaustion finally makes him fall asleep.

**T** he hospital walls are too white, the whole place smells like antiseptic and alcohol, and Yuuri is not enjoying his visit so far. Yuuri clutches the bouquet of tulips closer to his chest, only a centimeter away from crushing the flowers.

“Mr. Nikiforov is in this room,” the nurse says with a kind smile. “Please remember that visiting hours end at 7 p.m.”

Yuuri nods, thanking her. He still has a couple of hours to spend with Viktor and that should be enough. He takes a deep breath and opens the door.

Viktor is awake, resting against a couple of pillows and wearing an awful hospital gown. He is reading a book that gets forgotten as soon as he notices Yuuri standing in the doorway.

“Yuuri!” Viktor smiles at Yuuri. “Please come closer.”

Yuuri walks to Viktor’s bed, noticing how pale Viktor looks and the stark contrast of the dark circles that have appeared around his eyes.

“For you,” Yuuri says, awkwardly trusting the flowers into Viktor’s arms.

“I love tulips,” Viktor says, hovering his palm over the buds, making them flourish.

Viktor keeps the bouquet in his arms, and Yuuri looks at the bedside table already overflowing with flowers, cards and other small presents.

“How are you feeling?” Yuuri asks, sitting on the chair placed next to the bed.

“Better,” Viktor answers. “I’m not in pain anymore, but that’s also because of the painkillers.”

“Were your injuries bad?”

“Well, basically, I broke my ankle and I dislodged my shoulder,” Yuuri’s heart sinks at Viktor’s words. Viktor looks down at the flowers. “The doctor’s magic helped a lot to put the bones back to their right place and to quell the pain, but I still need rest to heal.”

Yuuri winces. If a professional’s magic was not enough to heal Viktor's ankle, then it is an injury more serious than he expected, more serious than Viktor is willing to tell him.

“I’m so sorry you got hurt Viktor,” Yuuri says. He looks down at his shoes, not daring to meet Viktor’s eyes.

“It’s all right, Yuuri,” Viktor answers. “It’s not your fault.”

Except it is Yuuri’s fault. It was because of Yuuri that Viktor left Saint Petersburg to follow him to the other side of the world, it was because of Yuuri that Viktor stayed, and it was because of Yuuri that Viktor is now injured.

“Then I’m sorry because I couldn’t help you,” Yuuri protests. “I was having a panic attack while you were in pain right in front of me, I couldn’t help because I’m too bad at healing magic, because I’m…” _weak_. Yuuri’s voice breaks before he can finish that sentence.

“You’re not weak.” Viktor smiles, he reaches for Yuuri’s hand, tracing circles on the back with thumb.

Yuuri meets Viktor’s eyes. Viktor is looking at him so tenderly that Yuuri cannot bear to look at him, preferring to lower his head one more time.

He does not deserve Viktor’s kindness.

“Don’t worry too much, I'm going to be released first thing tomorrow and I’ll be as good as new in a couple of weeks,” Viktor insists. “Now, give me a kiss. You can't come to the hospital to visit your significant other without expecting a romantic kiss.”

Yuuri knows he is trying to lighten the mood. It does not work, not really, but Yuuri complies, supporting his weight on the bed and leaning down to kiss Viktor softly.

Viktor finally puts away Yuuri’s bouquet, placing it on top of his other gifts.  Viktor places both of his hands on Yuuri's shoulders, then he moves his right hand to touch Yuuri’s face, paying special attention to trace the curve of his lips.

“Viktor?” Yuuri flushes at the intimate gesture.

“My lips are in perfect condition, I'm sure I’ll survive a rougher kiss.” Viktor smirks, pressing his thumb on Yuuri's lower lip, making him part his mouth.

“ _Viktor_ ,” Yuuri whispers. It sounds like a warning, anyone could walk in and find them in a compromising position—like the one they are currently in, with Viktor's fingers halfway into Yuuri's mouth.

“Y _uu_ ri,” Viktor elongates the _u_ on his name, teasingly. “Just give me a nice kiss to make me feel better”

“Fine.” Yuuri places both of his hands over Viktor’s face, caressing his cheekbones with his thumbs and leaning in to kiss him for the second time.

Viktor holds Yuuri down by the shoulders, moving his head so they can deepen the kiss. Yuuri stops when he feels himself getting carried away.

Viktor smiles at Yuuri. “I was serious when I said that a kiss would make me feel better.”

“Just get well soon,” Yuuri mumbles, taking Viktor’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “I can’t believe how impulsive you can be sometimes.”

Yuuri gasps when he hears himself scolding Viktor, not quite believing that he actually _did it_. He is ready to apologize, when Viktor speaks and interrupts Yuuri’s fumbled _sorry_.

“You’re right, I didn’t think enough of the risk.” Viktor sighs. “But, I’d even dare to say that you’re even more impulsive than me sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Viktor chuckles. “I can give you many examples, but I’m just going to remind you of a certain kiss that took me by surprise.”

Yuuri blushes. He also surprised himself that day.

“Well, I can also think of a kiss that left me breathless and awestruck.”

“Good to know, I like to think I’m a great kisser.” Viktor winks, and Yuuri smiles, pretending for a moment that his stomach is not lurching uncomfortably.

**Y** uuri is sure that Viktor knows that he is avoiding him since the moment he started.

In hindsight, it is pretty obvious how Viktor figured it out quickly. Yuuri is usually fast at answering Viktor’s texts unless he feels too anxious to do so, but he has never rejected a call from him.

Now, when Yuuri’s phone vibrates indicating the arrival of new messages, Yuuri ignores it, leaving it on his desk. He lies on the bed playing with a ball of light, bouncing it softly on his fingertips. Then, Yuuri’s phone chimes with Viktor’s special ringtone indicating an oncoming call.

The ball dissolves into sparks as Yuuri sits up so fast he gets dizzy.

If Yuuri is honest with himself, he can admit that he wants to pick up the phone and listen to Viktor’s soothing voice. After all, he should be feeling lonely in his apartment after being released earlier that morning. Yuuri had helped him get home, letting Viktor lean into him, supporting him as the other man was having difficulties to walk with crutches.

Still, Yuuri is not lying to himself either when a part of his brain tells him to pretend to not hear the call like he did with the texts. He is not ready to talk to Viktor again. He is not ready at all. The guilt is still too present, too big, and Yuuri needs a break, even if it pains his heart.

Yuuri bites his lip nervously as he picks up the phone to turn it off, effectively stopping the noise and the vibration. Yuuri is good at following his self-imposed rules when he wants to, and his current rule is ignoring his phone at all costs, no matter how many times he finds himself unconsciously reaching for it.

He returns to bed, creating a new ball of light, not sparing a glance in his phone’s direction and at the same time tells himself that he will call Viktor soon, that he just needs a little bit of time to organize his thoughts.

Almost 48 hours later, Yuuri walks to Minako’s bar, not quite ready for performing again but in urgent need of a distraction.

The lights go out, and Yuuri walks past the curtains and into the dark stage.

The dim flames that dance on his fingertips give him a sense of comfort and familiarity even as they grow and Yuuri can feel the warmness of the fire on the palm of his hand. The flames explode after Yuuri throws them upwards, and a light rain of sparkles falls on the audience, like Yuuri usually does.

Yuuri follows his routine, smothering the sparks just before he bows, allowing himself to take a look at the audience after that. He recognizes a couple of familiar faces that follow him around the city to watch his shows, and he is met with new faces. However, Yuuri almost falls when he focuses on the last row of seat because Viktor is sitting there and honestly, he does not look very happy.

Yuuri’s enthusiasm dissolves like one of his luminous spheres. Still, Yuuri smiles, continuing with his performance.

He chooses to keep his performance short and simple, changing pieces of plain cloth into colorful flowers. Yuuri walks around the stage lighting floating candles with his fingertips and making paper birds appear from the flames.

Yuuri tries his best to not think of Viktor watching him, but it is difficult, as well as it hard to know if he feels overwhelmed under Viktor’s gaze or if he wants Viktor to keep looking at him. _It is the latter_ , he decides: he wants Viktor’s eyes on him forever.

He ends his performance after he extinguishes all the flames and he takes a deck of cards of his pocket. Yuuri show the cards to the audience one by one, he focuses on imprinting the right kanji on the cards surface to tell a story. Then, he places all the cards in the right order on the table and with a snap of his fingers, the cards change, showing a scene of the tale instead—a lady standing in a green prairie surrounded by bamboo stalks, wearing an elegant kimono and staring at the moon.

Yuuri bows, grateful for the applause afterward. He picks up the cards quickly and he retires from the stage, moving to the bar to talk to Minako. However, Viktor suddenly stands on his way and Yuuri stops.

“Can we talk?” Viktor asks, his voice sounds a bit too urgent and Yuuri just nods.

“Sure,” Yuuri answers, following Viktor outside, grabbing his coat on his way.

Viktor does not walk much further, Yuuri can notice how much he tries to walk normally, even though he still using crutches. He opts to stay close to the building as it is not a too crowded area during that time of the night.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Yuuri meets Viktor’s eyes, fearing that he will find anger on Viktor’s usually calm face, but he finds something even worse—he finds pain, he finds confusion and he finds _sadness_.

“I…” Yuuri gasps, not knowing what to say.

“Did you hear my voice messages?” Viktor asks, barely managing to grab Yuuri’s wrists.

Yuuri looks down. Viktor is clearly upset, and yet, he holds Yuuri’s wrists so tenderly that it makes Yuuri’s heart swell and hurt.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t listened to them yet,” Yuuri admits, feeling his cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“Oh,” Viktor whispers. “I was wondering why you didn’t call me back.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri repeats. “I actually turned off my phone.” He adds in a soft murmur.

Viktor does not answer right away, and for Yuuri those few seconds feel like an eternity.

“It’s all right,” Viktor finally says, his tone of voice is not exactly the tone of voice of someone who is _fine_ with it. “Just… try to answer your phone more often.”

“Sure.” Yuuri nods. He feels suddenly too awkward. “Are we okay?” He asks, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“We’re fine,” Viktor promises, smiling softly.

Viktor leans down to give Yuuri a kiss, but Yuuri turns his head to the side and he receives the kiss on his cheek instead. Viktor does not look upset for having his kiss rejected, he just seems confused and Yuuri freezes, not having an explanation for his actions, not really. It has been too long since he purposely avoided a kiss from Viktor.

“I think I need to go. I promise I’ll call you.” Yuuri practically bolts away from Viktor before he can say another word.

He walks to the subway, placing a hand on his chest and feeling his heart thundering beneath his fingertips. Yuuri walks straight to the magical area, casting the spell as fast as he can pronounce it. He appears in front of his apartment door not even a second later, feeling dizzy as the aftermath of the sudden magic release.

As soon as Yuuri opens the door, he takes off his heavy winter clothes. He also slides off his tie, letting it fall to the floor along with his suit jacket, half promising that he will pick them up in the morning. The pants follow after he closes his bedroom door behind him, and he just lets himself fall to the bed, not thinking about his dress shirt that wrinkles easily.

He feels bad for running away, but he is exhausted and cold, and he prefers to try to quell his nerves by trying to catch some really necessary sleep rather than dealing with his ignored texts and calls.

His right hand grasps the tiny locket that hangs around his neck, it feels warm like his skin. He has gotten used to feel its weight, but it still feels strange in his palm.

“It shows you what you desire the most,” Yuuri whispers, tightening his hold, but not daring to open the locket.

Yuuri closes his eyes, breathing slowly, ignoring his trembling hands and his heart that threatens to explode.

It feels like a blink of an eye, but Yuuri actually manages to fall asleep, opening his eyes again when it is still too dark. Yuuri struggles to take in his surroundings and he fumbles to find his glasses and turn on the light, before looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table: 5:00 a.m.

Yuuri rolls around the bed, but he cannot fall asleep again. He feels restless, like he might set something on fire by accident if he does not find something to do. However, a simple glance at his desk makes him remember what he really has to do.

Yuuri takes a moment to gather enough courage to turn on his phone, felling it vibrating madly on his palm as it starts up.

He sighs when he notices all the unanswered messages and the unanswered calls. He squeezes his phone in his hand, looking at the alarm clock placed on top of his bedside table, not really thinking as he dresses again with the first clothes he can find. His bedroom suddenly feels too constricting and Yuuri needs fresh air.

His hands shake while he walks to the roof of the building, almost running up the stairs and taking a deep breath as soon as he opens the door and the cold wind hits his face.

Yuuri looks down at his phone, sliding his thumb over the screen, navigating through his recent conversations and the ones he did not bother to read. Sure, there are texts from Phichit, Mari, and Yuuko, but most of them are from Viktor and Yuuri closes his messaging app before he feels to guilty too continue.

There are also a couple of voice messages and Yuuri ultimately decides to hear those first.

“ _Yuuri!_ ” Viktor’s recording starts playing. “ _I was wondering if everything is all right over there. Please call me._ ”

The message finishes and the next one starts playing.

“ _Hey, sleeping beauty, were you asleep when I called a while ago?_ ” Viktor giggles. “ _Call me after you hear this._ ”

“ _Yuuri, please answer the phone_ ,” Viktor’s voice sounds more urgent in the third message than in the previous ones. Yuuri bites his lower lip. “Liubimyj _, I’m not sure of what I did to upset you but remember that I could never blame you for what happened, and don’t forget that I care about you a lot. Please call me._ ”

Yuuri drops his phone, letting it fall to the ground, trying and failing to keep his tears at bay. He wants to run to Viktor’s arms, but he cannot because he loves Viktor so much it hurts. The last thing he wants is to see Viktor in pain again.

The sun rises slowly in the horizon, tinting the sky and the clouds of warm oranges and yellows.

It has been almost eight months with Viktor and when Yuuri thinks of life, he thinks of magic and Viktor. That is what makes his decision so painful, but Yuuri is sure that it is for the best.

He needs to end _it_.

All their worries would disappear with a simple phrase—the probability of one of them getting injured in the future, the pressure of the competition, and the annoying yet constant presence of reporters trying to know the truth about the latest rumors about their relationship.

An ending would help them to get a better life, and even if it does not improve… well, Viktor has always been better without Yuuri anyway.

A new day begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet y’all know what’s coming next ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ) ~~don’t you love the pain™?~~
> 
> According to my research, люби́мый [ _liubimyj/ljubimyj_ ] means darling, sweetheart. :) ♡
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and also for the support! ❤ now half of the chapters have been posted! :)
> 
> Remember that comments and kudos are good for my heart. ♡ (also… it’s ~~very~~ discouraging not knowing what y’all think about this fic so far, so consider leaving some feedback, maybe?)
> 
> Anyway, feel free to scream with me about yoi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/commeunjardin) & [tumblr](http://v-katsuki.tumblr.com)
> 
> **Chapter 4 will be available on November 9th!**
> 
> Until next time! 
> 
> ╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ♡


	4. Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!!
> 
> I don’t have a lot to say, so please enjoy the flangst (fluff + angst) :0

**T** he first time Viktor almost told Yuuri he loved him, he barely caught himself on time. Sure, he wanted to let Yuuri know that he was slowly but surely falling in love with him, but Viktor was not sure if Yuuri was ready to hear those words.

It was admittedly, a little soon, but when he saw Yuuri kneeling on the floor of his apartment hugging Makkachin, laughing with joy, he knew. He was sure that the feeling that made his heart race and his chest hurt was love.

He really wanted talk about it to Yuuri, or at least to let Yuuri know how much Viktor appreciated him.

“Such a good dog,” Yuuri said, squeezing Makkachin in his arms.

Makkachin licked Yuuri’s cheek, enjoying the attention she was getting.

“I’m glad you like Makkachin, she’s the most important girl in my life after all.” Viktor laughed.

“I really like dogs,” Yuuri answered and it almost seemed that for a moment sadness clouded his face.

Yuuri sighed and walked to the sofa, almost tripping when Makkachin refused to stop circling him excitedly. Viktor sat by his side, about to ask what was wrong when Yuuri just shook his head, moving to sit on Viktor’s lap. He placed his knees on either side of Viktor’s thighs holding him close, with his arms around his neck.

The next moment, they were kissing, giving in to the pleasure, rocking against each other and bruising their lips with fervent kisses. Yuuri’s mouth tasted slightly of the aromatic _sake_ they had during dinner and Viktor almost felt intoxicated.

However, Makkachin whined, standing on her hind paws to lick Yuuri’s face and demanding his attention. Viktor groaned because Yuuri was basically giving him a lap-dance and he was greatly enjoying it, but at the same time he could not ignore his dog.

“I think I have to give Makkachin’s her dinner,” Viktor whispered against Yuuri’s mouth.

“Sure.” Yuuri got back to his feet and Viktor missed his body heat immediately.

Viktor almost sprinted to the kitchen, opening the cabinets quickly and almost spilling Makkachin’s dinner on the kitchen floor in his haste. Makkachin was not able to resist the food and she walked straight to her plate as Yuuri walked straight to Viktor’s arms.

“Wanna show me your bed?” Yuuri asked dragging his teeth _painfully slowly_ down Viktor’s neck to his collarbone.

“ _Yes_!” Viktor exclaimed, feeling so excited he almost got dizzy.

He guided Yuuri to his bedroom, closing the door behind them and falling to the soft clean sheets that would need to be washed in the morning. It was not until the sun rose and Yuuri left that Viktor remembered that he wanted to talk to Yuuri about his newfound feelings.

The second time Viktor almost told Yuuri he loved him, it was too early in the morning and his arm was definitely asleep under Yuuri’s weight.

While spending the night together had become a more and more frequent activity, actually _spending the whole night together_ was still uncommon, even after a bunch of dates that ended up with them sipping alcohol lazily and trading blowjobs.

Viktor moved to face Yuuri, getting ready to try to slip his arm free but he stopped when he saw Yuuri’s face—he was gorgeous with his messy hair, half parted lips and rosy cheeks.

It was far from being the first time Viktor noticed Yuuri’s beauty, but he still felt his heartbeat going out of control and his breath getting caught inside his throat. He wanted to tell the whole world that he loved Yuuri Katsuki and in order to accomplish it, he needed to tell Yuuri first.

However, in order to tell Yuuri how he felt, he had to wake him up and he did not want to do it, not yet. Yuuri had looked too tired the previous night—the dark circles under his eyes had been more noticeable in the artificial light of his bedroom, and he fell asleep in the middle of foreplay.

Viktor had been focused on placing kisses all over Yuuri’s collarbone and chest, smiling because of Yuuri’s soft moans. At one point, when Viktor had almost unbuttoned Yuuri’s shirt completely, Yuuri had stopped squirming under him and had stopped moaning, and Viktor had looked at his face to find him asleep.

Viktor almost laughed.

Afterward, Viktor had tucked Yuuri into bed, taking off his half-unbuttoned shirt and his jeans. He had caressed Yuuri’s face tenderly, wondering for a moment if there was anything troubling Yuuri’s mind. As far as Viktor was aware, Yuuri did not had any magic shows planned for the upcoming week and no other reasons to not rest properly.

Yuuri stirred in his sleep, rolling away from Viktor’s arm. Viktor seized the opportunity to sit up on the bed and to stretch his back and roll his shoulders after a good night of sleep.

With a last glance at Yuuri’s lovely face, Viktor rose from the bed, picking some clothes from his dresser before walking out of the bedroom to start his morning routine.

Makkachin was so happy to see him she jumped excitedly at Viktor, in her typical way to demand a walk outside. Viktor was never able to say _no_ and he moved to the entryway to put on his shoes and retrieve Makkachin’s leash.

He guided Makkachin to the closest park hurriedly, not wanting to extend their walk too much. Not when Yuuri was alone in his apartment, probably waking up alone and wondering where he had gone.

Viktor opened his apartment door twenty minutes later, moving immediately to his bedroom, just to find out that Yuuri had indeed woke up. He had grabbed his clothes from the top of Viktor’s drawer where Viktor left them the previous night and was currently showering.

For a moment, Viktor considered walking into the bathroom to shower with Yuuri, an idea that he abandoned a moment later, deciding that Yuuri would appreciate something to eat more than morning sex.

The coffee is ready when Yuuri dragged his feet to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Viktor said with a small smile. “I made coffee.”

“’Morning,” Yuuri mumbled, accepting the cup that Viktor offered him.

Yuuri looked better, the mauve circles around his eyes were less noticeable but still present. Viktor almost asked about what was troubling Yuuri’s mind, but Yuuri opened his mouth first.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Yuuri said, his eyes focused on the floor. “And actually, I have to go.” Yuuri drank his coffee in one long gulp.

“Don’t worry about that, you were obviously tired,” Viktor replied, feeling a little disappointed because he wanted to have breakfast with Yuuri. “We should do this more often, y’know?”

“What do you mean?” Yuuri asked, placing the empty cup on the kitchen counter.

“I mean, _sleeping together_ ,” Viktor answered. “Not only making love.” He winked at Yuuri, enjoying the delectable red tint on his cheeks.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Yuuri agreed, smiling a little.

Yuuri had left when Viktor remembered that yet again, he had not had the chance to talk about his feelings.

The third time Viktor almost told Yuuri he loved him, it was not a remarkable moment except for the fact that Yuuri was right next to him, smiling, spending a nice moment with him after a well-done performance.

The seasons were changing—the days were getting shorter and the wind was getting colder and colder, week after week, as people also started to trade their summer clothes for something warmer.

With fall came the preparations for the upcoming magic competitions and Yuuri’s noticeable self-doubt and uncertainty about his abilities. Viktor wanted to help, but Yuuri was not very open to discuss his ideas for his future magic shows with him. Viktor guessed it was because of the fact that they were still competing against each other—that they were still rivals.

They had just finished dinner in a trendy sushi place and they were walking back to the station. Having dinner together was Viktor’s favorite kind of date because he loved to discover new great places to eat in the city.

They walked together down Shibuya streets, idly reaching to touch each other’s hands, when a small group of over-enthusiastic fans recognized Yuuri and subsequently, Viktor, asking politely for pictures with both even though it was pretty obvious that they preferred Yuuri.

Yuuri’s fans started to ramble about their admiration for Yuuri’s magic in fast Japanese. Viktor could barely understand a fraction of the whole rather one-sided, conversation; but judging by Yuuri’s bright red face he was receiving nothing but praise.

Yuuri knew how to make the world shift and change around him, but he was not exactly sure of how to interact with his fans. Viktor watched him stumbling over his words, thanking his fans hurriedly.

A boy with blond hair and a red streak in the middle of it who was definitely the most enthusiastic of the group, said something that made Yuuri freeze and Viktor placed his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, leaning closer to ask: “Yuuri, is everything fine?”

“Yes… it’s just that they’re magic apprentices and they want to see a magic demonstration,” Yuuri mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Then let’s do it,” Viktor said, walking to a less crowded area, a bit away from the bustling traffic and the multitudes crossing the streets.

“Wait, what?!” Yuuri exclaimed, following Viktor nonetheless.

“Come on, Yuuri, this will be fun.” Viktor leaned closer to whisper in Yuuri’s ear. “Unless, you don’t have something under your sleeve to excite me.”

Yuuri was not one to decline a challenge and Viktor was aware of it. He actually loved that about Yuuri.

“Fine,” Yuuri accepted after a short moment of consideration. He turned around to say something to the fans and the group got closer, looking like it had just turned into the best evening of their lives.

Yuuri closed his eyes. Viktor saw his shoulders relaxing at the same time he placed his feet firmly on the ground. When Yuuri opened his eyes again, he moved his arm to the right, freezing the water of a nearby fountain.

That caught the attention of more pedestrians that stopped to look. Yuuri moved closer to the fountain, half melting the ice until there was a big puddle of water around him.

Yuuri took a deep breath a for a moment he looked at Viktor then, he raised both arms, creating two tall columns of water which he froze. Viktor understood what Yuuri wanted to do when Yuuri opened his palms and frozen branches grew on top of the column as well as delicate ice leaves that sprung on the branches.

Viktor admired Yuuri’s trees as Yuuri walked around the fountain creating ice pathways wherever he placed his feet and making flowers bloom with a flourish. Viktor was delighted.

“ _Milyi_ , let me help,” Viktor said, slightly surprised at his voice sounding too breathless.

“Suit yourself.” Yuuri laughed, taking a step back.

Viktor moved his wrist and a bunch of hyacinths bloomed out of a puddle. Yuuri answered by creating a bed of roses. Viktor felt his heart beating a little faster inside his ribcage, excited for a challenge. The audience receded a little when Viktor made a stream of hibiscus blossom around the area.

Yuuri smirked, his initial wariness completely gone as he traced his fingers along a tree’s trunk changing its form and lowering its branches. The final touch were the wisteria hanging bushes that appeared along the path traced by Yuuri’s fingertips.

Brown met blue as Yuuri found Viktor’s eyes again. Viktor watched as Yuuri melted a portion of the ice, he read Yuuri’s lips that urged him to do the same, Viktor barely had the time to react before Yuuri directed a water jet to his face.

Viktor lifted both arms to protect himself, creating a wall of ice that exploded in as soon as it was hit with the water jet. Snowflakes came tumbling down, making the ice garden look ethereal.

The audience clapped and Yuuri bowed, accepting their praise. Viktor bowed too, but Yuuri was the real star of the show.

Viktor _really_ loved him.

Viktor did not wait until the crowd dispersed, tugging Yuuri away from the people that had gotten closer to admire their work, half giggling when he guided Yuuri into an alleyway.

Viktor leaned down to catch Yuuri’s lips in a kiss, wrapping his arms around his waist, almost expecting to feel ice cold lips after their performance. He did not:  Yuuri was too warm and Viktor’s knees were too weak.

Yuuri laughed against his lips, tugging Viktor even closer.

Viktor broke the kiss, taking a moment to recover his breath and to just look at Yuuri, who looked _so handsome_ even in the dim alleyway. He wanted Yuuri to know the effect he had over his heart, but yet again, Viktor could not find the right words, nor he think it was the right moment to say it.

He offered Yuuri an ice rose instead. Yuuri’s smile was priceless, so warm it could melt all the ice in the world. Yuuri kissed Viktor again.

**V** iktor does not know what to do with his life anymore. One day, things are great with Yuuri and the next, Yuuri basically disappears from the face of earth never forgetting to use strong anti-tracking spells to make sure that no one will follow him.

Viktor would have personally searched for Yuuri across the city, no matter how immense Tokyo is. His ankle is still bothering him, and he knows better than making Yuuri angrier by actually looking for him when he obviously does not want to be found.

Viktor just wants to spend time with Yuuri like he did before—he misses their cheesy dates, and he misses kissing Yuuri afterward, only when no one was watching them.

He misses Yuuri.

“ _Chris_ ,” Viktor whines, letting his head fall to his crossed arms on the table. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Chris takes a sip of his frappuccino. “It hasn’t been too long since you two were sucking each other’s faces… among other _body parts_ , I guess.”

Chris winks, half giggling at his truly bad joke and wiggling his eyebrows. Viktor does not feel like laughing.

“I was just trying to cheer you up,” Chris says, setting his cup back on the table.

“It’s not working,” Viktor replies, unmoving and lamenting his luck.

“Then, tell me about it,” Chris suggest. Viktor lifts his head to look at him. “I mean, if you want to talk about it.”

Viktor sighs, lifting his latte to drink a sip that warms his throat.

“Yuuri is avoiding me, pretty obviously since a week or so ago,” Viktor starts. “I mean, right now, he doesn’t pick up the phone anymore, or  answer my messages. I tried to visit him yesterday, but he never answered the door.”

“It seems like you two need to talk about your problems.”

“I know,” Viktor massages his temples. “But it’s difficult when I don’t know what’s going on and Yuuri doesn’t tell me either. He is really good at disappearing.”

“Yuuri is usually reserved, but it’s unlike him to avoid you.”

“I miss him,” Viktor admits, meeting Chris’ green eyes. “It’s been almost a week since we kissed for the last time. I mean, it’s not just the physical aspect of our relationship what I miss, even though his kisses are _really_ good.”

Viktor smiles, suddenly feeling hotter, feeling his cheeks burning for a moment. He clears his throat. “Anyway, I miss our dates and talking to him, and the way he smiles.”

“Viktor,” Chris chips in, his voice sounds serious, but he also smiles. “You’re definitely head over heels. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before.”

“I don’t think I’ve felt this way before.”

“Then, I’m sure you two will figure out things together,” Chris assures him.

“But, what if he doesn’t want me anymore?” Viktor gasps. “Did you watch his press conference last night?”

“What press conference?” Chris asks, not really following.

Viktor fishes his phone from his pocket. The video is not difficult to find, not after Viktor watched it a handful of times before going to bed and after he woke up during his morning routine.

“Yuuri has officially announced that he’s competing in the Championship of Magic next month, and he held a press conference to answer some questions,” Viktor explains, tapping on the right video and holding the phone in front of Chris.

_“Katsuki-san, what do you think of Viktor’s Nikiforov’s recent accident?” a reporter asks._

_“Well, Viktor… he is a great magician and it’s unfortunate that he is injured,” Yuuri answers. “I’m hoping that he’ll return to the stage soon.”_

_“What are your thoughts about the World Championship of Magic now that Viktor is most likely out of the competition?” another reporter sitting in the first row asks._

_“There hasn’t been any official declaration from Viktor or his team, so we still don’t know for sure if he’ll skip the competition, however, I’m sure that the Championship won’t be the same without an important rival like Viktor.”_

_“Do you think that Viktor’s withdrawal could make it more likely that you will win in the competition?”_

_Yuuri frowns. “There are a lot of talented contestants that already confirmed their participation, I have to beat them first, with or without Viktor.”_

_“Like Viktor’s compatriot, Yuri Plisetsky?”_

_“Yes, like him,” Yuuri agrees. “He might be young, but he has proven himself a strong rival.”_

_“What kind of relationship do you really have with Viktor?” a reported asks all the way from the last row._

_Yuuri pauses for a moment, thinking of his answer, but he is clearly upset._

_“Our relationship is exclusively professional.”_

_“There have been rumors,” the reporter insists. “You two have been seen together on different parts of the city and according to some witnesses, you act too friendly towards your main rival.”_

_“You should know better than to believe in those baseless rumors!” Yuuri exclaims, just for him to realize his mistake a second later. He clears his throat. “I apologize, but you should only trust what Viktor and I have to say about this matter.”_

_“Katsuki-san!” A reporter springs out of her chair, raising her hand. “Do you have a plan to finally prove Viktor that your magic is superior to his? It’s been already eight months, and the world is awaiting the crowning of a new champion.”_

_Yuuri sighs. “I’ll not answer any more questions regarding Viktor Nikiforov.”_

Viktor pauses the video and places his phone on the table.

“He is tired of me,” Viktor proclaims.

“Don’t worry, he’s tired of the intrusive media, not of you,” Chris assures him. “I mean, have you seen the way Yuuri looks at you? He’s in deep.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you can trust me.” Chris winks. “But seriously, it’s not like you to worry about your relationships or to care too much about someone.”

Viktor shrugs.

“Yuuri is different,” Viktor sighs. “I guess that I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“And I’m sure you won’t,” Chris says.

Viktor opens his mouth but before he can continue with the conversation, a loud noise makes him turn around.

“Viktor Nikiforov!” Yuri exclaims as he opens the café door. “Prepare yourself to be defeated!”

“Not today, Yura.” Viktor crosses his arms. “I don’t feel like getting another headache.”

Despite of all the caffeine he just consumed, Viktor feels tired after overthinking for the larger part of the last 36 hours, and he definitely does not need a teen following him around, challenging him and testing his patience.

“Then fight me, old man.” Yuri crosses his arms. “And don’t even think of withdrawing from the Championship of Magic! I’ll crush you there too and everyone will see it!”

Viktor just places a couple of one hundred yen coins on the table. “I have to go.”

He walks to the door, ignoring Chris asking him to stay. He is putting his coat back on when he hears Yuri talking to Chris for the first time in forever. He is trying to be discreet for once and in a normal day, Viktor would have laughed at Yuri’s attempt at talking in a soft voice.

“What the fuck is going on?” Yuri asks, trying to whisper so Viktor would not hear his question. Key word being _trying_.

Chris sighs. “Matters of the heart, you’ll understand when you’re older.”

“ _Yikes_ ,” Yuri spits.

Viktor does not look back at them as he opens the door, stepping back into the cold winter air.

**T** hree days after Yuuri decided to hide from the world, the doorbell chimes. Viktor places his book on the coffee table, getting up to open the door, and ignoring the slight discomfort on his ankle when he puts weight on it. It is not a bit surprising, considering that he has not gotten enough rest or time for his ankle to be fully healed yet.

He smiles when he opens the door he and finds Yuuri standing a little awkwardly on the other side. Viktor can count with one hand the times Yuuri has appeared outside his door alone. Most of the time they have stumbled together through the threshold, holding each other— _wanting_ each other.

He is elated to see Yuuri after being deprived of his hugs and kisses for so long.

“Yuuri!” Viktor says with delight, tugging Yuuri inside and into his arms.

Yuuri accepts Viktor’s first kiss but he refuses the next one, glancing at the wall instead. Viktor knows something is off and opens his mouth to ask, but Yuuri speaks first.

“Viktor, I–” Yuuri looks conflicted, like it is difficult to find the right words. “We need to talk.” He finally says.

“Is everything okay?” Viktor asks, getting worried. “Is there a problem with something? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“No, everything’s okay.” Yuuri mumbles, shaking his head too quickly.

Viktor knows it is a lie, but he does not push the subject, not yet. It is better to let Yuuri talk first.

“Come in, I’m going to make some tea,” Viktor says, walking to the kitchen.

Yuuri takes off his shoes and walks to Viktor’s living room.

“Please have a seat.” Viktor signals the couch. “And don’t look so tense, I want you to feel at home.”

Viktor winks, returning to his task of preparing the tea and looking for some pastries for them to eat.

As the water boils, Viktor keeps stealing glances at Yuuri. He sees the moment when Makkachin jumps to the couch, demanding Yuuri’s attention and Viktor smiles.

He is _truly_ in love.

The tea is ready soon enough and he hands a cup to Yuuri, placing a plate with various sweets on the coffee table.

“What did you want to talk about?” Viktor asks, half pushing Makkachin off the couch to sit next to Yuuri.

His dog does not budge, and Viktor takes one of her toys from the arm rest and throws it to the other side of the room, taking a seat next to Yuuri as soon as Makkachin bolts after the toy.

“Right, I wanted to talk.” Yuuri sighs.

Viktor smiles and places his hand, over Yuuri’s, caressing his knuckles with his thumb.

“You can tell me anything,” Viktor assures him, but Yuuri does not seem more at ease.

Viktor offers him a sugar cookie that Yuuri delicately munches on until he sighs and eats the rest of the cookie in two bites.

“I’ve been thinking and I just… I wanted…” Yuuri’s shoulders fall and he takes a big gulp of tea.

Now, Viktor is sure Yuuri is distressed, the tea is close to scalding hot, and he knows Yuuri would not drink it so fast in any other situation.

Viktor sets his teacup on the coffee table, and he places his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri jumps when he touches him, and Viktor pulls his hand away, choosing to only rub soothing circles with his thumb over the back of Yuuri’s hand.

“I really don’t know how to say this,” Yuuri pauses, placing his teacup on the coffee table too.

“Then, just say it,” Viktor encourages him. If anything, Yuuri only looks worse.

A couple of minutes of tense silence follow Viktor’s words. He is about to apologize for being too direct when Yuuri opens his mouth and four terrible words come out of his throat: “This needs to end.”

“What?” Viktor is sure he blinks a couple of times while he tries to decipher the meaning of Yuuri’s words.

“Let’s end this.” Yuuri’s eyes meet his for the first time, looking too serious and too convinced that he is making the right decision.

Viktor’s smile wavers, his gaze shifting to his hands for a second, before he quickly recovers and goes back to look at Yuuri silently. Viktor has no idea of what to say to Yuuri, or what to do.

“I don’t know why you want to end this,” Viktor finally says, and his voice sounds too desperate. He pauses for a moment, trying to speak in a calmer, less frantic way. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Yuuri explains, looking down at the plate of cookies. “If anything, I’m the one to blame. I’m tired, and I don’t know how to deal with this anymore.”

Viktor gasps, trying to contain the tears and failing to do so when Yuuri looks back at him.

“We can solve this, we can make this work,” Viktor argues, his voice is barely still clear, like he is not crying. He knows he cannot keep it together any longer.

“Please understand,” Yuuri replies. “This is really hard for me too. I just want the best for both of us and I don’t want you to feel like you’re forced to be here.”

Yuuri was the one who mended his heart and now he is the one breaking it. Viktor refuses to accept it.

“When did you ask what _I_ want?!” Viktor sobs, his voice finally cracking as he cries harder.

Viktor finally breaks eye contact, not being able to bear to look at Yuuri any longer.

“Viktor…” Yuuri looks like he might cry too.

Viktor cannot bear it, not when his hands are clearly trembling. He notices that he is still holding Yuuri’s hands. He winces as he removes his hands slowly.

“You are not taking my feelings into consideration.” Viktor lets out a shaky breath. “What a selfish thing to do.”

Viktor stands up from the couch to pace around the room, feeling too restless to remain seated, and too conflicted to _sit_ _next to Yuuri_.

“I already told you that this is not easy at all.” Yuuri is clearly frustrated and Viktor notices the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes. “You should try to understand how I feel.”

“That’s a pretty difficult thing to do when I’m not sure if I can keep looking at you right now.” Viktor dries his tears with his sleeve, his voice sounds too harsh, but he cannot help it. “You’re breaking my heart right now!”

Yuuri stays frozen for a second. A tear slides down his cheek, then another and another, until he is also crying.

“You’re doing exactly the same to me! You’re breaking _my_ heart.” Yuuri stands up, marching to the door.

“Wait, don’t go!” Viktor exclaims, running to grab Yuuri’s wrists, letting him go when he realizes he was holding him too tight. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m… sorry too.”

“I don’t want us to end like this,” Viktor admits.

Yuuri takes a whole minute to answer, not even looking at Viktor. “I need to think and figure out some things.”

“Just promise me you’ll call when you do,” Viktor pleads.

“Sure.” Yuuri whispers.

Viktor falls back to the couch as Yuuri walks to the _genkan_ to put his shoes back on, without sparing a last glance to Viktor before opening the door and stepping out of the apartment.

Makkachin jumps back to the couch and Viktor scratches absentmindedly behind her ears. A new wave of tears pickle at his eyes and he wraps his arms around Makkachin, keeping her close as he sobs.

“ **F** or my next trick I need a volunteer,” Viktor proclaims.

He looks at the audience, letting his eyes scan everyone carefully and resisting the urge to frown when yet again, he cannot find Yuuri amidst the audience.

“I think I’ve decided,” he says absentmindedly, not being sure of his choice at all. “The lovely woman with the red dress.”

The woman looks really excited to have been chosen and she practically runs to the stage.

“Thanks,” she mutters shyly.

Viktor just smiles.

“Please move to the center of the stage.” He offers his hand to her, guiding her to the spotlight. “Please, introduce yourself.”

“I'm Tanaka Megumi, and I'm happy to be here!” she says.

Her English accent reminds Viktor of Yuuri, but if Viktor is honest with himself, basically anything reminds him of Yuuri nowadays.

Viktor walks to stand behind her.

“Please, close your eyes and extend your arms,” Viktor tells her.

She does as she is told and the next moment she is floating—she is hovering over the ground and does notice that her feet are no longer supporting her weight.

“Could you open your eyes?” Viktor asks her.

The woman smiles as she opens her eyes. Then, she looks surprised and maybe a bit anxious when she moves her feet but cannot reach the ground. Viktor focuses on keeping the woman in the air as he creates fake wind currents to make her hair flow and her clothes move in vaporous waves.

Viktor touches her shoulder and she disappears in a cloud of white smoke. He snaps his fingers and she appears again, holding a bouquet of bright flowers. It is not a new trick, not even one of Viktor’s favorites. For the umpteenth time that night, Viktor wonders why he insisted on continuing with his show when he is not in his best form.

The audience claps and Viktor bows. He raises his head and that is when it finally hits him—he has no idea of what to do next. Sure, he made a plan the day before, but now that he stands in front of everyone he is not sure at all.

Viktor’s confidence comes from being able to surprise everyone and yet coming up with new tricks seems like an impossible task. Viktor has been struggling to find a rhythm, a path to follow again, but now even finding his previous footing is more than he can bear.

He remembers how he was ready to give up after a few taxing months of zero motivation and even less inspiration, and how it was thanks to Yuuri that he managed to recover some of that past inspiration. It brings him to the present where Yuuri has broken up with him and not called him yet, and that just adds fuel to his doubts.

Viktor is pretty sure that is holding the matches to light himself on fire.

He waits until everyone has stopped clapping to raise his arms up, like he used to do after his performances.

“I’m glad that so many people have supported me over the years,” Viktor starts. “But honestly, I don’t know if I can keep doing this any longer. I’m so sorry.”

Viktor catches the surprise in everyone’s faces, and he gulps before he continues speaking.

“For me, magic is like a double-edged sword.” Viktor conjures a small flame that dances on his palm. “Thanks to magic, I have avoided reality for a long time. I have a good life, but I’ve pushed away things that I love.”

Viktor closes his palm, extinguishing the flame altogether. He opens his mouth to add something else, but on a second thought he just bows. Then, Viktor does the last thing he ever expected to do—he walks out of the stage before the astonished faces of his fans, not daring to look back as he leaves The Magic Castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! ❤
> 
> I’ll keep my rambling short because I’m exhausted, but I want y’all to know that I'm aware that I used all of my inspiration for the flashback in the beginning lolol ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ (10/10 best flashback, my heart still races when I read it), and I do think the last scene was lame, but hopefully it's not so bad...
> 
> Tell me what you think in the comments and gimme kudos to help me survive uni ;)
> 
> Let’s be friends on [twitter](https://twitter.com/commeunjardin) & [tumblr](http://v-katsuki.tumblr.com). :)
> 
> **Chapter 5 will be available on November 19th!** There are only two chapters left and both are longer and nicer (I think), so please look forward to them. ;)
> 
> Until next time! 
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧♡


	5. Sunshine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi! ♡
> 
> Like I said, this chapter is longer than the previous ones lol (but it’s not as long as chapter 6 ;))
> 
> ⚠ This chapter contains explicit sexual content (from “Viktor kisses him…” to the next page divider)
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy chapter 5!

**H** asetsu was exactly like Yuuri remembered it. He was gone for a couple of years, staying in Tokyo permanently to pursue his magician career, and being back in his hometown after so long made Yuuri kind of anxious.

“Look at the beach, Yuuri,” Viktor said, walking to the shore, his shoes leaving a trail of footprints on the sand behind him.

Yuuri felt his insides lurching at the prospect of taking Viktor to his _real_ home. It had been difficult enough to gather the courage to invite him and he almost gave up, but he was glad he did not.

The afternoon sun was barely there, shyly slipping through the clouds and making Viktor’s pale hair look golden. Viktor looked so carefree away from the bustle of the metropolis, like he belonged right there, next to the sea, laughing and playing with Makkachin.

There was also the fact that even though they had only been in Hasetsu for a few hours, Yuuri’s family had already taken to Viktor.

His mother had prepared a big bowl of _katsudon_ for him, his father had placed a bottle of fine _sake_ usually reserved for the regular guests on their table. Mari had punched Yuuri’s arm and she told him that _he caught a good one_.

The thing was that Yuuri did not introduce Viktor as his boyfriend, not exactly. It would have been be uncomfortable to call Viktor his boyfriend when they had yet to use the word to talk about their relationship.

He told his family that Viktor was special to him and he did not need to say anything else—his family understood and did not ask for more detail. And… well, Viktor was not exactly subtle, lacing their fingers together whenever he had the chance, staying too close to Yuuri.

“It’s good to see that you found someone special,” his mother had said. “ _Vicchan_ is so handsome in person. I still remember how excited you were when you found new posters of him to hang up on your wall.”

Yuuri had jumped at his mother words, hitting himself on the low table. He hoped that Viktor had not understood their conversation. He had excused himself to go outside to breathe some fresh air and spend those minutes alone, pacing around the garden.

A moment later, Viktor had found him outside and they just walked wherever their feet took them until they had arrived at the beach.

“Seagulls remind me of Saint Petersburg,” Viktor commented after a moment, snapping Yuuri out of his reverie.

Yuuri had never paid much attention to the sea birds, but they seemed to be important to Viktor for some reason.

“Really?” Yuuri asked, not knowing what to say next.

“Yeah.” Viktor looked at the sky where the birds were flying, before meeting Yuuri’s eyes. “I guess I just got a bit nostalgic.”

Yuuri felt his breath getting caught inside his throat. Viktor definitely missed his hometown and Yuuri was the reason why Viktor was so far away from it. Yuuri was about to say something else—to apologize, when Makkachin returned with her favorite ball squeezed between her teeth.

“Good girl.” Viktor kneeled to retrieve the ball and Yuuri decided to drop the subject, at least for the moment.

Later that night, Yuuri laid on his bed inside his childhood bedroom with Viktor by his side. The bed was too small, but Viktor preferred to sleep glued to Yuuri’s side than alone in the futon that his family had set next to the bed.

Sleeping was not an easy task when Yuuri’s mind was racing. In a little over a month, the world’s eyes will be focused on the World Championships of Magic. Everyone expected Viktor to win again. Yuuri _knew_ Viktor wanted to win, but what if Yuuri was the reason why Viktor would not achieve that goal?

Viktor shifted in his sleep and he ended up half lying on Yuuri’s chest, a position that reminded Yuuri of the sweltering summer heat and of the taste of sweet shaved ice on their lips, and of rainy afternoons when they both tried to catch their breath after sex. Yuuri liked holding Viktor like that.

Yuuri was not sure of when he fell asleep, exhausted from the travelling and thinking.

Waking up the following morning was too quiet, too lonely and too cold without Viktor by his side, but judging by the bright sunlight outside his window, it was not that early anymore.

Yuuri dragged himself to his feet, taking his glasses from the bedside table. He spent more time than usual in the shower, moving sluggishly under the spray of water, still feeling drowsy after a night of barely sleeping.

“Yuuri, let’s go to the castle!” Viktor exclaimed as soon as Yuuri walked back into to his room after taking his shower.

Yuuri stumbled back, surprised for a second. He thought that Viktor would be out with Makkachin or with his mother while she recounted embarrassing stories from Yuuri’s childhood, but instead Viktor was sitting on his bed, looking like he was waiting for him.

“It’s actually a ninja house,” Yuuri mumbled when the surprise had faded, moving to retrieve some clean clothes from his closet.

“That’s pretty cool,” Viktor answered, he stood up to wrap his arms around Yuuri. “Happy birthday by the way.”

Viktor kissed Yuuri’s jaw, placing his hand below Yuuri’s chin to guide him to turn around to kiss his lips. Yuuri was glad to accept Viktor’s kiss and the kisses that followed until he was about to jump and wrap his legs around Viktor’s waist. He barely remembered that he was already late for breakfast and that his mother would not be happy if Yuuri skipped a meal.

Yuuri pushed Viktor away. Then, he said: “Breakfast.”

Viktor pressed a last kiss to his cheek.

“Sure, breakfast first, then Hasetsu Castle,” Viktor declared, marching out of the room.

Yuuri put on his clothes quickly and his mother smiled, wishing him a happy birthday when he sat at the table. He was ready to finally eat something and smiling apologetically when he noticed it was almost noon.

Viktor remained by Yuuri’s side as he ate his rice and grilled fish, daring to weasel his hand under the low table to take a hold of Yuuri’s thigh. That is, until Mari walked past them, winking at Yuuri and making him grab Viktor’s wrist to remove his hand from his leg.

After breakfast, Viktor ran out the house with Makkachin following behind, urging Yuuri to do the same.

Yuuri walked a couple of steps behind him, giving Makkachin enough space to circle around them as she pleased. Viktor grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to walk by his side.

“This way is better.” Viktor smiled. “Come on, I want to see the view from the castle!” Viktor exclaimed, walking even faster.

Viktor tugged Yuuri closer to take a selfie in front of the castle, barely giving Yuuri enough time to look at the camera, let alone to smile or to look like he was not taken by surprise. Yuuri argued that he looked really bad, but Viktor smiled, assuring Yuuri that his eyes looked too big and too beautiful and that he wanted to keep the picture.

Inside Hasetsu Castle, Viktor watched everything carefully, like he wanted to remember even the smallest details. All the while he reached to touch Yuuri’s shoulder or to grab his hand when they found themselves alone.

Later, after they have walked out of the Castle, they grabbed some lunch at Nagahama Ramen. Yuuri found himself staring at Viktor’s lips more times than he wanted to. They looked wet because of the broth and a few times Viktor licked his lips, unknowingly testing Yuuri’s patience.

As much as Yuuri wanted to relish in the salty taste of Viktor’s mouth, he continued to eat his own food at a leisurely pace. He focused on slurping noodles and not on the very handsome man sitting in front of him.

Afterward Viktor insisted on walking around the city before returning home. It turned into a long walk that lasted until the sunset, ending with shared kisses behind lonely wisteria trees. They kissed until Viktor’s lips were red and swollen and Yuuri was starting to feel his jeans getting uncomfortably tight.

Viktor made sure to tell silly jokes on their way back, making Yuuri giggle and move closer to him, leaning into Viktor’s frame and letting him support some of weight.

Yuuri was still laughing when he walked into the inn’s living room, not expecting at be greeted by a rain of streamers that—definitely—hit him on the face.

“Happy birthday, Yuuri!” His family exclaimed. Minako was also with them, holding a celebratory banner with Yuuri’s name written on it.

Yuuri blushed, feeling tears pickling at the corners of his eyes.

“Thanks,” he breathed, trying to remain calm enough to keep his tears at bay.

Viktor hugged Yuuri from the side, holding him by the waist.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your opinion about today,” Viktor apologized. “But my task was to keep you away from the inn, so everyone would have enough time to prepare after they were done with work.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri whispered. “I had a great time.”

“And now it’s time for you to eat some homemade food before the cake,” Minako placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down to sit at the table. “You too, Viktor.”

Viktor sat next to Yuuri as his mother placed two bowls of _katsudon_ in front of them. The rest of the Katsukis and Minako also sat down, also ready to enjoy their own plates of food. Yuuri focused on eating his food, refusing a glass of beer that Viktor gladly accepted in his place.

Later, he blew out his cake’s candles. Viktor insisted to feed him a piece of cake when he was sure that no one in his family was paying them much attention. Which was not the case because a moment later Mari leaned closer to whisper something about getting ready for their wedding that had Yuuri blushing in embarrassment and pushing her away before she could finish.

His sister just chuckled, and Viktor took that moment to drape himself over Yuuri, talking to him in a hushed tone: “Please, come with me for a moment.”

Yuuri just nodded, taking a last look at Minako who was drinking beer like it was water before the amused eyes of his family. He paused at the _genkan_ to take his jacket from the rack and to tie his sneakers while Viktor waited for him holding the door open.

The air was getting colder as winter approached and Yuuri almost regretted not grabbing a scarf before marching outside to follow Viktor.

“Where are we going?” Yuuri asked.

“Nowhere in particular,” Viktor answered. “I just wanted to take a short walk.”

Viktor reached for Yuuri’s hand, lacing their fingers together. His skin was warm and Yuuri would was just about to hug him when Viktor stopped, close to a park, already empty for the night.

“Happy birthday, _liubimyj_ ,” Viktor said, turning to face Yuuri, getting closer to kiss him.

Viktor’s mouth tasted like the sweet frosting of birthday cake and beer as his tongue caressed Yuuri’s palate. Yuuri held Viktor closer, pouring his emotions into the kiss—all of his love, his admiration and the _longing_ that consumed his heart.

“I still something for you,” Viktor whispered, moving to retrieve a small box from his pocket. “You can open it if you want to.”

Yuuri opened the box: inside there was a locket shaped like a heart, small and golden.

“It looks lovely,” Yuuri said, the light catching the delicate carvings on the locket surface.

“It’s a magic object,” Viktor explained taking the locket from the box. “When you open it, it shows you the person, place, or the thing you desire the most.”

“Thank you, Viktor.” Yuuri smiled, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s shoulders.

“Also, to apologize for dragging you all around your hometown today, we can do whatever you want for the rest of the night, _birthday boy_ ,” Viktor spoke in a playful tone, placing both of his hands in the back pockets of Yuuri's jeans.

“I know where this is going and as much as I like it, I won't have sex in my childhood room, especially not when my family is still home,” Yuuri says, feeling his face getting too hot despite the cold air.

Viktor laughed, moving to link the locket’s chain around Yuuri’s neck, pressing his forehead against Yuuri’s afterward.

Yuuri wanted to keep Viktor by his side forever.

**Y** uuri looks at his clock for the umpteenth time since he got to bed. It is almost 4 a.m. and he is pretty sure that sleep will not come to him anytime soon. Not when his heart hurts and his mind is too awake despite the hour and the fatigue.

It has been a few days—almost a week, actually—since his argument with Viktor and he is pretty sure that by now Viktor must be packing all his belongings to go back to Russia.

Yuuri opens the locket in his hands and he sees Viktor’s smiling face inside it. He bites his lip, feeling defeated—no matter how many times he opens and closes the locket, it always shows Viktor’s face and that honestly, hurts.

The tiny Viktor inside the locket waves at Yuuri, and that is too much. Yuuri closes it and clutches it to his chest, not intending to open it again anytime soon.

“Yuuri.” Phichit knocks at his door. “I made breakfast!”

Yuuri sighs. He sits up, rubbing at his tired eyes before he picks up his glasses from his bedside table, leaving the locket behind until he takes a couple of steps and walks back to retrieve it. He places the chain around his neck and hides the locket under his shirt.

The first thing that Yuuri notices when he walks out of his room, is that indeed, Phichit has made breakfast. The second thing that comes to his mind is that he is actually really hungry after spending the most part of the latest days inside his room, barely adventuring outside to steal cookies and bottled water from the kitchen.

Yuuri sits at the table, looking down at the pancakes that Phichit places within his reach. He takes a bite and then another one, but then he notices how Phichit remains silent and he pauses to look at his friend.

“Yuuri, we need to talk,” Phichit says, his characteristic smile is gone from his face.

Yuuri knows it is bound to be a serious conversation. He is not sure if he wants to have that kind of conversation—he actually does not want that—but avoiding the subject would only make Phichit more upset.

Yuuri nods, placing his fork next to his barely ate pancakes, and Phichit reaches to take Yuuri’s hand over the table.

“Please be honest with me,” Phichit starts. “What’s really going on with Viktor?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri answers maybe too harshly, but that was the last thing he expected Phichit to ask him. He resists the sudden urge to recoil back to his room. “I mean… I’m not actually sure of what are you talking about.”

“Well, during his last show, he dropped everything and ran to the backstage before leaving the building altogether,” Phichit explains. “He has never run away from a performance before.”

Yuuri feels his breath getting caught inside his throat. He did not know that, but then again, he has been avoiding his phone and any other communication devices like the plague.

“Oh,” Yuuri murmurs after a while, no longer pretending to be interested in his breakfast.

“Do you think he pushed himself too hard?” Phichit asks. “Did you two have a fight? What happened?”

“What?!” Yuuri stares at Phichit, standing up from his chair and preparing to make a fast escape. “What–whatever that happened between us… how would affect his career in any way? It’s not like we’re close anyway…”

“Don’t you dare to think I don’t know what you’re doing with Viktor behind closed doors!” Phichit exclaims. “I live with you and I know more than you expect about this—actually more than I ever wanted to know, so please don’t lie to me any longer.”

Yuuri blushes at Phichit’s words, but the embarrassment fades in comparison to the guilt. Phichit is pretty upset and Yuuri has little experience in dealing with his best friend when he pouts and crosses his arms, clearly annoyed.

“Phichit, I–”

“I tried to give you your space, I tried to give you time to come and talk to me, but you didn't. Now you're avoiding this whole deal and I don't know what to do to help you.”

Yuuri opens his mouth, but Phichit just shakes his head.

“Please just wait a second.” Phichit takes Yuuri’s hands in his. “I worry about you Yuuri, I really do, and I know for sure that you can’t keep blaming yourself because you’re definitely blaming yourself. It shows.”

Yuuri wonders for a moment how Phichit is able to read him so accurately (alternatively—when did Phichit learned to use his magic to read minds) but that moment passes, and his best friend hugs him.

“I’m fine.” Yuuri cannot believe his own lie, not when his voice breaks at the end.

“No, you’re not,” Phichit brushes his thumbs under Yuuri’s eyes. “You’re actually crying.”

Yuuri touches his face, feeling the damp skin with his fingertips, finally noticing the tears that have rolled down his cheeks.

“You’re right, I’m not really fine… but it’s my fault,” he argues. “I’ve tried to end this absurd competition for a while now, but I couldn’t and then I went and screwed everything up.”

Phichit hugs him, rubbing his back in a soothing way. Yuuri sobs harder, almost feeling like he does not deserve the compassion. Regardless, Phichit stays by Yuuri’s side the whole time, until his eyes are too swollen and red, and he cannot cry anymore.

“Why don’t you go to talk to Viktor again to try and fix your relationship with him?” Phichit asks softly. “You don’t have to, though.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri assures him. “I guess I’m a little scared of what would happen if Viktor decides that I’m not worthy of his time anymore. It’s been a constant in my life for a while now and I’m not sure what I’d do afterward.”

“Like, are you actually considering leaving magic, or Viktor?”

“Neither really,” Yuuri shrugs. “But I’m sure that leaving one of them would result on losing both.”

Phichit opens his mouth, probably to ask another question, but Yuuri does not miss a beat and continues pouring his insecurities out.

“If Viktor leaves no one would go to see me performing anymore; after all, it feels like everyone who goes to my performances is just interested in knowing what Viktor will do to surpass me in his next performance.” Yuuri explains.

“Don’t say that.” Phichit frowns and it is weird to see his face in anything different from his warm and affectionate smiles. “Don’t underappreciate all your hard work.

Yuuri gulps, looking at the ground, feeling his whole face getting hotter _again_.

“I’m a little worried about Viktor,” Yuuri continues, deciding to ignore Phichit’s remark, for a moment.

“Why?”

“Well, he came to Tokyo just to be closer to his competitor,” Yuuri whispers. “Magic is the thing that links me to Viktor. Leaving it would make us go in different directions.”

Phichit gasps like he finally understands.

“You don’t want Viktor to leave, right?” Phichit squeezes Yuuri’s hands, a little bit too tight.

“You could say that,” Yuuri mumbles. “I know it might sound selfish, but I don’t want him to leave Japan… to leave _me_.” Yuuri finishes in a whisper.

“Oh, Yuuri.” Phichit wraps his arms around him. “You need to talk about this with Viktor.”

“But what if he leaves and never comes back?”

“Yuuri, I love you, but sometimes, you need someone to make you realize that other people love you, especially when it comes to Viktor,” Phichit chides. “It’s going to be fine.”

Yuuri is not sure of it, but he still nods.

“I really hope that.” He sighs, moving to their small couch letting himself fall to the soft cushions, thinking of a safe course of action to take.

In a moment of weakness, he opens the locket again and the tiny Viktor inside it blows him a kiss, reminding Yuuri yet again of the thing he wants the most in the whole world.

**Y** uuri planned this scenario many times over in his head during the time he spent on the train and walking to Viktor’s door, all while feeling like his heart was about to explode.

He is filled with doubt when he is about to ring the bell. His hand hovers over the door for a long moment until it finally falls to his side. He cannot do it. He is not ready to face Viktor again. It would be better to hide and let Viktor forget about him.

“Yuuri?” Yuuri freezes, closing his eyes and counting to ten to steel his nerves, because Viktor is standing behind him, calling for him.

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispers, gathering the courage to look at Viktor.

Yuuri turns around after a _very_ awkward moment. He does not dare to look at Viktor yet, fixing his gaze on the floor instead. Makkachin seems happy to see him, walking to nuzzle Yuuri’s leg, unaware of the tense atmosphere.

“I wanted… I wanted to talk to you,” Yuuri says, finally looking at Viktor who is looking back at him biting his lip, looking troubled.

“Sure,” Viktor replies after a few seconds. He clears his throat afterward. “Come in.”

Viktor opens his apartment door and he leaves his shoes in the _genkan_. Yuuri follows him shyly, feeling more like a stranger and an intruder than someone who used to visit often.

Unlike the last time he visited, Viktor is not smiling. The apartment feels a little bit too cold and there are a few paper cups on the kitchen table. Yuuri stands awkwardly next to Viktor’s couch.

“You can sit if you want to.” Viktor sighs, taking a seat himself.

Yuuri sits on the couch, his back completely straight as his body refuses to relax, fiddling with a loose thread on his sweater. He is feeling like he is about to have a thoughtful conversation that might change both of their lives. And he is not really looking forward to talking to Viktor after what happened last time. He is not even sure of what kind of relationship they have nowadays, or if they even have a relationship.

He gulps.

“I think I’m going to take a fast shower,” Viktor says, already walking out of the room. Like he can read Yuuri’s thoughts of wanting to be alone for a moment. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else before leaving, but he just shakes his head, and walks towards his bathroom.

Yuuri remains frozen in place, looking around Viktor’s apartment. He spends time taking in all the books, the framed pictures around the room (getting flustered when he finds his own face in a handful of them) and more of Viktor’s belongings scattered all over his living space.

Makkachin gets closer to him, placing one of her favorite toys at Yuuri’s feet, asking him to play with her. Yuuri does not feel like playing, but he stills moves the ragdoll around, throwing it away so Makkachin can retrieve it in the small room.

After a couple of minutes, Yuuri stops playing altogether, letting Makkachin rest against him while rubbing behind her ears and appreciating the distraction that comes with Makkachin’s soft fur, kind eyes and overall adorableness.

“Makkachin has missed you,” Viktor says, returning to the living room with a small towel draped over his shoulders and yet again, Yuuri stares at him, fascinated by Viktor’s ability to look his best even when he is freshly out of the shower.

“I missed her too,” Yuuri says.

Viktor looks at him like he is expecting him to say something else, but he does not, and the moment is gone in a blink of an eye.

“What did you want to talk about?” Viktor asks, sitting on the loveseat next to the couch where Yuuri is currently seated.

“About last week?” Yuuri’s answer sounds rather like a question and not quite like the reply he wanted to give Viktor.

“I still don’t know what I did wrong,” Viktor says, and his voice sounds a bit too void of emotions, and it is unsettling because Viktor usually wears his heart on his sleeve (at least around Yuuri). Now it is strange to see him put his emotions aside completely.

“I already told you it was my fault,” Yuuri replies. “So, if anyone did something wrong, it was me.”

“The only wrong thing you did was not listening to me when I told you that we can make this work,” Viktor insists, and his voice is suddenly sad and tired, and that breaks Yuuri’s heart a bit more.

“Viktor, at least try to understand me, it’s already hard enough.”

“What do you want me to understand?”

“I made my decision: I’m not continuing with this whole ‘epic’ magic competition,” Yuuri replies. “I didn’t even ask to be a part of this!”

A moment of uncomfortable silence passes between them. Just when Yuuri is about to apologize (not exactly sure what for), Viktor jumps to sit next to Yuuri, grabbing both of his hands squeezing them excitedly.

“So, everything is about the magic competition?” Viktor beams, like he just had a life-changing revelation.

“Yes, I thought it was pretty obvious.” Yuuri frowns, not quite understanding Viktor’s point.

“I thought you were going to break up with me!” Viktor exclaims, placing his hands on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“What? Why would I do that?” Yuuri replies. “Wait! I thought you broke up with me last time we met.”

Now Viktor looks confused.

“I wouldn’t do that either,” he answers. “Sure, I was mad, but not _that_ mad.”

Yuuri chuckles, feeling the tension in his shoulders dissipating a little bit.

“Still, magic without you is pretty much meaningless,” Viktor continues. “You’re my inspiration to–”

“Viktor, wait,” Yuuri interrupts him. “Like I said, understand me, if this madness continues, one of us might end up really hurt or even worse. And if it’s you, it’ll kill me.” He ends in a whisper. “You already broke your ankle. Next time, it might be something else.”

“Yuuri…” Viktor seems at loss for words. “I didn’t know you felt like this.”

“You win. I don’t care about being the best anymore,” Yuuri mumbles, and even if he feels a little pang of regret afterward, he also feels like a heavy weight has been lifted from his chest. “In the end, you’ll get another victory. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No,” Viktor denies, and Yuuri sees his blue eyes shining with tears. “I don’t want to win, I want _you_.”

“You can have both,” Yuuri whispers.

Viktor leans closer to him. “I’m happy just getting the one that makes me want to live and love.”

Viktor kisses him and Yuuri feels like he is drowning and finally breathing at the same time, and he cannot refuse the kiss—he cannot refuse anything that Viktor might give him. So, he kisses back, pressing his mouth hard against Viktor’s, bruising their lips and moving his arms to hold the other man closer, desperately, digging his nails into the firm muscles of Viktor's back.

Viktor’s kisses are addictive like always, and his lips are everywhere, pressing fleeting kisses all over Yuuri's neck and collarbone, teasing the skin with his teeth. Yuuri hums with pleasure, and tilts his head to the side, allowing Viktor’s lips to trace paths on his jaw until Viktor’s mouth is back pressing against his, and a warm tongue is tracing his lips.

“Yuuri… I…” Viktor pants between fervent kisses.

“Viktor,” Yuuri replies, putting some distance between them so Viktor can speak.

“Maybe we should take things slower this time,” Viktor suggests.

Yuuri blinks, once and twice, retracting his hands that have wandered to touch the skin beneath Viktor’s shirt, feeling like his heart is going to burst out of his chest.

“Is that what you want?” Yuuri asks before he can even process his words.

Viktor looks down for a moment, but then he looks at Yuuri’s eyes again, moving to whisper in his ear.

“No, but I thought that you might want that,” he answers. “Do you wanna know what I really want?”

“Sure.” Yuuri nods.

“I want you to stop worrying too much for once, and just fuck me,” Viktor pants into his ear, and Yuuri is sure that he is going to do just that.

“Yes,” Yuuri breaths, tugging Viktor down to catch his lips in another kiss.

Yuuri moans into Viktor’s mouth, and Viktor smiles, pulling Yuuri even closer, taking a moment to guide him to his bedroom, practically running toward it.

Yuuri gets pushed down to sit on the bed and Viktor straddles his lap. Yuuri slides his hands up Viktor’s chest beneath his clothes, feeling Viktor’s taunt muscles on his palms and rubbing circles around his nipples with his thumbs.

Viktor moans and tilts his head, giving Yuuri a perfect view of his collarbone and neck, and Yuuri cannot help but bite the tender skin under Viktor’s jaw, not hard enough to leave a mark—not yet, and definitely not in such a visible place like that—but Viktor stills hums, pleased. Yuuri holds him even closer.

Viktor pushes Yuuri down, planting eager kisses all over Yuuri’s face. Yuuri cannot tear his eyes away from Viktor, not when he is suddenly focused on grinding their hips together, rubbing against each other and making Yuuri gasp and hold back his moans because he is enjoying it too much after spending so long deprived of Viktor.

Yuuri finally closes his eyes when Viktor gives him a break and leans down to kiss him again. Yuuri loses himself in the sensation of Viktor’s lips moving against his own. He enjoys Viktor’s taste as he opens his mouth delicately to deepen the kiss.

Yuuri’s glasses get foggy and he takes them off, half throwing them on the bedside table, not bothering to look to make sure that they _actually_ landed there. Both of his eyes remain fixed on Viktor’s blue ones that shine playfully.

Viktor reaches into the drawer of his bedside table, and Yuuri follows his movements, noticing that his glasses have indeed fallen to the ground, but he does not mind much not when Viktor is waving a half-empty bottle of lube and a condom on his direction.

“Here you have,” he says, leaving the items within Yuuri’s reach and moving to remove his t-shirt.

Yuuri slides his fingers down Viktor’s torso, letting his nails scratch over the ridges of his abdomen, and pulling his pants down when his fingertips graze the fabric.

Viktor looks down at Yuuri expectantly and Yuuri wraps his finger around Viktor’s cock, stroking him and tracing circles around the head with his thumb and at the same time he takes the lube, opening the bottle clumsily. Viktor moans, shakily helping Yuuri with the lube so it will not spill on his sheets.

Yuuri stops moving his hand, adjusting his grip to just tease Viktor as he finally slicks up his fingers and slides his first digit into Viktor, feeling a little shy all of sudden despite the fact they have done this before.

He watches Viktor’s reactions—the subtle increase of his breathing and the sinuous movement of his hips when he is ready for more. So he complies, and gives Viktor what he wants, knowing fully well that he will give him _anything_ he asks for.

Viktor’s arms tremble too much, and he falls to his elbows when Yuuri has three fingers inside him. Yuuri decides it is the right time to switch positions, rolling them both so Viktor can rest against his pillows and Yuuri can continue to drive him crazy.

Yuuri takes his hands off Viktor to unbutton his shirt, letting it fall to the floor along with the rest of his clothes. Viktor bites his lower lip, looking at him like he might jump at him at any second. Yuuri hurries, fumbling to find the condom that got lost in between the bedsheets, and actually feeling relieved when he finds it.

“I see you’re still wearing my gift,” Viktor comments. Yuuri looks down at the locket.

“What can I say? I like it too much,” Yuuri admits.

He rips the foil open and slides the condom down his neglected cock, sighing and closing his eyes, stroking himself a couple of times.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor whines. “Why would you use your hand when _I’m_ _right here_?”

Yuuri actually chuckles. “I know.”

He places a pillow beneath Viktor’s hips, and Yuuri moans when he finally slides into Viktor, resisting the urge to pound hard and fast into his partner. He wants to keep a steady and slow rhythm, one that will surely make Viktor scream with pleasure and writhe underneath him.

Yuuri moves his hips sinuously—slowly, savoring every thrust inside Viktor, not paying enough attention to Viktor’s gasps of _more, more, more_. It is obvious what Viktor wants, and Yuuri is planning to give it to him, but he also wants the moment to last.

He wants to make love to Viktor all night long, to get to their orgasms slowly in an unhurried manner, worshiping every single one of the delicious sounds Viktor is making. However, Viktor looks like wants to speed up things, guiding Yuuri with his legs to move faster, _harder_.

Viktor slides his palms from Yuuri’s shoulders, dragging his nails down Yuuri’s back, no doubt leaving red lines along his path. Yuuri moans into Viktor’s mouth, the tingling sensation in his back makes him shudder and thrust harder into Viktor. He moves his face to nip at Viktor’s neck and he bites when Viktor slides his nails over the tender skin of Yuuri’s back for the second time.

Yuuri places one of Viktor’s legs over his shoulder to thrust deeper into him and Viktor smiles, letting his head fall back to the pillows with a content sigh. Yuuri speeds up his slow pace, feeling Viktor’s legs tensing around him.

“Wait a moment,” Viktor says after a moment and Yuuri stops immediately.

“Is everything alright?” Yuuri asks, placing Viktor’s leg back to the bed.

“Everything is perfect.” Viktor pushes Yuuri down to lie on the bed. “But now it is your turn to lie down.”

Yuuri closes his eyes to enjoy the feeling of Viktor’s hands all over him, of his fingertips exploring every inch of skin—pinching his nipples, applying the right amount of pressure to make him squirm, and tracing paths down to the skin below his navel. His breath gets caught inside his throat.

Yuuri tugs Viktor closer to press a kiss to his swollen lips. They are red like ripe apples and Viktor’s cheeks.

Viktor winks at Yuuri, sinking down onto his cock, taking it inside him again. Humming pleased, he lets his head fall back, exposing the fine curve of his neck marked by a reddish bite mark that Yuuri unintentionally placed there just a couple of minutes ago. It makes him want to mark his pale neck some more.

Yuuri slides his hands up Viktor’s legs up to his hips, as Viktor starts to move, bouncing up and down, setting a fast-paced rhythm that will take them both over the edge in no time.

Viktor looks utterly beautiful, looking down at him with half closed eyes, messy hair and a blush that has spread all the way down to his chest. He is smiling as he pants and moans, and arches his back prettily. His thighs tremble as he tries to slow down his pace to ride Yuuri’s cock in slow and sensual movements, no doubt enjoying the pleasure slowly simmering inside him, after all.

Yuuri keeps digging his fingers into Viktor’s hips, and his hands slip a little because of the remains of lube on his fingertips and the fine layer of sweat that covers their bodies. He closes his eyes and digs his fingers on Viktor’s skin again, before he decides to stroke Viktor instead.

Viktor moans Yuuri’s name, he quickens his pace again. Yuuri closes his eyes, feeling too close to the edge.

Yuuri comes with Viktor’s name on his lips, and Viktor follows him a few seconds after. During the moment that follows, both recover their breath and their normal heart rates. Viktor leans down to kiss Yuuri, and Yuuri relishes in the soft kisses, and the weight of Viktor’s body lying on top of him.

It is late, Yuuri has not been sleeping that well and sex made him feel even groggier.  Yuuri struggles to keep his eyes open, but Viktor also looks half asleep. He plays with Yuuri’s bangs that are either standing in all directions or just pasted to his forehead with sweat.

Yuuri’s limbs feel heavy when he moves from the bed to discard the condom and to clean himself. Viktor follows behind—smiling and looking well-fucked, still blushing and sliding his fingers through his too messy hair. He is undoubtedly enjoying the afterglow, and Yuuri is sure that his legs are actually trembling a little.

“I think I need another shower,” Viktor says. “Join me.” He adds, tugging Yuuri to stand with him under the spray of lukewarm water.

Viktor pours some bodywash on his hand and he washes Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri does the same and it is almost overwhelming how intimate the gesture feels, especially after sex.

They do not bother to put their clothes back on after they dry themselves lazily, and they crawl under the bed covers together.

Yuuri remembers Phichit words then; remembers how much his inner doubts are gnawing at him. He opens his mouth and he speaks before he can think more about the question or the repercussions his words might cause. If he does not find the courage to ask in that moment, he is sure he never will.

“Do you love me?” Yuuri whispers, his voice is hoarse and sleepy, and he is sure that he is too tired to cry, to laugh or to run away regardless of Viktor's answer.

A couple of anxiety inducing seconds pass before he gets an answer from an equally drowsy Viktor, who keeps tracing patterns mindlessly all over his chest.

“With my whole heart,” Viktor whispers into his ear, like it is a precious secret, and Yuuri bites his lower lip failing to hold back the tears that gather in his eyes.

Viktor does not react for a moment, but then he moves to wrap his arms around Yuuri's torso, not letting him go for a second until the morning light.

**Y** uuri wakes up with Viktor lying on his chest. He is comfortable and warm despite of the position and suddenly, he feels so overwhelmed that he might start crying again. It is really nice and domestic, and he can definitely get used to it. But he still picks up his clothes and glasses, tiptoeing around the apartment, getting dressed as fast as he can.

The sun is slowly rising and the whole room seems bathed in sunlight. Everything looks softer, like he is looking at the world through orange tinted glasses.

Yuuri cannot help himself when he presses a feather-like kiss to Viktor’s lips before he hurries out the room. He cannot allow himself to enjoy Viktor’s company, not yet, not when his heart still races like crazy when he thinks about the previous night.

It is not like he does not loves Viktor.

He does.

In fact, he loves Viktor so much it hurts, and that is why he needs to be alone for a moment.

Makkachin runs to him, chasing his legs on his way to the door, and Yuuri pats her head affectionately, not able to resist her puppy eyes even though he wants to walk out the building as fast as he can.

Yuuri retrieves his coat and his scarf, and he walks to the entryway to get his shoes.

“Yuuri.” Yuuri freezes like a deer caught in the headlights, turning around to see Viktor half-wrapped in his sheets and looking at him from the door of his bedroom.

“I–”

“Last night I was being completely honest,” Viktor says, interrupting Yuuri before he can even formulate a sentence. “I love you.”

Yuuri is glad to be already kneeling on the floor because otherwise he would have stumbled and fallen painfully to the ground.

“I… I know,” he answers, mentally kicking himself for that absurd answer.

Viktor walks to the living room, dragging the bedsheets with him.

“It’s all right, you don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready yet,” Viktor assures him, sitting on the couch. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, you can do that.” Yuuri stands up before he finishes tying his boots, wondering if he should take them off again.

“I have an interview later today and I’d like to honestly answer some of the questions about our relationship,” Viktor explains.

“Oh,” Yuuri mumbles.

“I won’t do it if you don’t want me to, but I’d really like to put some rumors to rest.”

“Like the ones that claim that we hate each other?” Yuuri cannot help but feel a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Viktor snorts. “Yes, exactly like those.”

Yuuri ponders his reply for a moment. It is true that those rumors are obnoxious, but he is still wary of speaking about the thing that keeps evolving between Viktor and himself.

“You can talk about us,” Yuuri agrees, almost surprising himself with his answer. “But please don’t talk about our relationship, not yet.”

“Got it,” Viktor beams at him, a smile so bright that it could rival the sun itself. “Please don’t miss the interview tonight.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Yuuri says, awkwardly opening the door and slipping outside the apartment before the situation gets even more awkward.

His heart is beating too fast, but he still hurries to return home. Phichit seems absent when he enters their apartment, and he walks straight to his room. He changes his clothes for something more comfortable and he takes the deck of cards from his desk.

Yuuri’s fingers tingle and he feels like he could set his bed on fire by accident if he is not careful, and that is the reason why he chooses a relatively harmless spell to keep his mind busy. His levitation spell makes the cards float around his room, like particles of dust suspended in the air.

Phichit finds him a while later, standing in the middle of his room, anxiously fiddling with a sphere of light while the cards keep floating around them. Random belongings that Yuuri made float around the room, suspended when he touched them by accident, not really caring to bring them down afterward.

“I gotta admit that I actually don't know if your talk with Viktor went well or not,” Phichit says.

“It's still a bit complicated,” Yuuri answers.

“Well, considering the fact that you didn't return home last night, I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you actually had such an amazing time that you forgot to call your best friend.”

Yuuri buries his face in his hands, remembering that he indeed promised to call Phichit, and that he definitely forgot to do it.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri apologizes.

“Don't feel so bad,” Phichit walks further into the room, sitting by Yuuri’s side on his bed. “I’m going to treat you something to eat, you look like you need a distraction other than sending your stuff to outer space.”

Yuuri sighs and all the objects fall to the floor. A (thankfully empty) bottle of water falls on Yuuri’s head, and he winces.

“Yes, you definitely need that distraction.” Phichit nods. “Come on, I want to eat some sushi.”

Phichit does not talk much while they walk to the closest sushi place, nor after they order their first plates. Their food arrives, and Yuuri cannot stand the silence anymore. He opens his mouth and the words do not stop.

Yuuri talks about Viktor from the very beginning, from back when Yuuri used to run away from Viktor—the early days of feeling too _starstruck_ and overwhelmed to deal with his idol—to the events of the previous night, excluding some really intimate details that still make Yuuri blush when he remembers them.

He has never spoken so much about Viktor since they met, and by then end of his rambling, he feels tired but also strangely calm, like he is finally free from the boulder that kept crushing his chest.

The calm is short lived as a popular talk show starts on the small TV of the restaurant, and Viktor is the guest star for the evening. Yuuri did not even notice it had gotten so late, or that he forgot completely about Viktor’s interview.

Viktor is wearing a fancy blue suit and a smile that everyone loves, and Yuuri sinks in his seat. Phichit squeezes his hand three times over the table reassuringly.

“Thank you for joining us,” the host starts. “Tonight, we have a really special guest, Viktor Nikiforov!”

Viktor waves at his fans in the audience.

“I’m glad to be here,” Viktor says with a smile, one that Yuuri has gotten to associate to the media appearances: one that does not reach his eyes.

“How have you been? It’s not a secret that you broke your ankle not long ago and the prospects weren't completely favorable. What do you have to say?”

“Even though I was injured, I have been thinking about my upcoming shows every day. Now that my ankle feels as good as new, I'm glad to announce that I’m competing in the World Championship of Magic next month,” Viktor declares.

The audience cheers and claps, elated by Viktor’s announcement.

“All your fans are surely happy to know that.”

Yuuri feels his heart beating faster. Viktor just confirmed that he is going to try to win another Championship. Yuuri is competing against Viktor in an international competition barely a month away.

Yuuri surprises himself when he realizes that he is actually looking forward to it.

“Yuuri,” Phichit calls him, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Sorry,” Yuuri apologizes.

“Don’t worry about that, you just seemed out of it for a second.” Phichit says. “Actually, you missed a couple of questions.”

“Were they interesting?” Yuuri looks back at the TV.

Viktor is speaking about the kindness of his fans that send him supporting messages during his recovery. Memories from all the gifts in the hospital table resurface to Yuuri’s mind, memories that definitely include Viktor hugging his bouquet and kissing him.

“He got asked about how he spent the weeks recovering after he got injured,” Phichit answers. “Also about Makkachin.”

Yuuri barely nods.

“The world has wanted to know the answer of the next question for a while now,” the host says and Yuuri knows it is bound to be a question about him. “In a few words, what kind of relationship do you have with Katsuki Yuuri.”

A picture of Yuuri appears on the big screen behind them, and Yuuri winces when someone behind him starts to chatter about how it is not Yuuri's best photo. He sinks even lower in his chair.

“I think that it’s impossible to describe my relationship with Yuuri in a few words,” Viktor starts. “Our relationship has changed a lot in the last nine months since we met and at first we definitely had some struggles, but eventually we reached a mutual understanding.”

“Could you give us more details? Is he your rival, your friend, or something more?"

“You already said the answer yourself.” Viktor chuckles, and Yuuri even smiles a little, ducking his face and hiding behind his sleeve.

“Which is it?” the host insists.

Viktor just smiles at the camera and Yuuri’s heart skips a beat because, for the first time since the interview started, Viktor looks as radiant as the sun, like he did at Hasetsu’s beach, at Yuuri’s room late at night, and on their few dates around the city.

“That’s a secret.” Viktor winks and the everyone gasps, including Yuuri.

The interview ends not long after, and gratefully the host does not ask about Yuuri again. Yuuri barely look at the TV when a new smiling celebrity enters the studio as he takes out his phone from his pocket, excusing himself to go to the restroom while Phichit looks at him with a knowing smile. He wastes no time in finding Viktor’s contact information and pressing the _call_ button for the first time in forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. ♡ :)
> 
> fun fact: the smut scene in this chapter was one of the first scenes I wrote lol I hope it wasn’t so bad ~~I’m actually aro ace lol~~
> 
> another fun fact: if u think the angst is over, ur wrong. we still have an angsty flashback to go. ;)
> 
> Once again, according to my research, люби́мый [ _liubimyj /ljubimyj_ ] means darling, sweetheart. :)
> 
> Friendly reminder that your comments and kudos give me life, and they really make my day, so please consider leaving some feedback. :O
> 
> Talk about YOI to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/commeunjardin) & [tumblr](http://v-katsuki.tumblr.com)
> 
> **Chapter 6 will be available on November 29th!** (Yuuri’s birthday!!!) There’s only one chapter left! omg, hopefully I haven’t disappointed anyone so far, haha. Stay tuned for the final chapter!
> 
> Until next time! 
> 
> ╰(•̀ 3 •́)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ♡


	6. Dusk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~
> 
> I have some good news: last week I attended my very last class as an undergraduate student. I’m still working on my thesis but I’m basically an unemployed engineer now :^)
> 
> Anyway, the final chapter is finally here… just in time for Yuuri’s birthday! ❤ … and it’s a 10k-words-long-wild-ride lol ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿
> 
> ⚠ This chapter contains some references to depression in the flashback.
> 
> I’ll save the rest of my sappy ramblings for the ending note, so please enjoy the chapter now.

**I** t was almost midnight when Viktor walked back to his apartment. Usually, he would have paid for a taxi, feeling his magic reserve diminished after a night spent under the spotlight. But… for some reason that particular night, he did not feel entirely opposed to the idea of walking and wandering a little around Saint Petersburg streets.

A small ball of light floated by Viktor’s side, illuminating the path ahead. It had been long since the sun set and the streetlamps had come to life, but he could really use some extra light.

The streets got exponentially emptier as he got closer to home, leaving behind the area that nightclubs and theaters had made their own.

An icy gust of wind hit Viktor right in the face and he tried to bury himself in his scarf and long coat as his whole frame trembled. It was still too cold, and after months and months of snow, rain and clouds, Viktor longed for something warmer, for a bit of sunshine—literally and figuratively.

Arriving home was nice enough if only for Makkachin, who always paced around the entryway even before Viktor took his keys out of his pocket. Viktor extinguished the light and opened the door.

Makkachin jumped at him as soon as Viktor stepped inside, in the way she always did when she suspected that Viktor was carrying a bag from the closest supermarket filled with various dog treats: excitedly, standing on her hind paws in an attempt to reach Viktor’s folded arms.

“Sorry, I don’t have anything for you today,” Viktor said, kneeling to pet the dog.

Makkachin whined once, like she actually understood Viktor’s words, before moving back to her bed to rest. Viktor considered giving Makkachin one extra cookie for the night, but he also knew Makkachin liked to hoard toys, treats and socks behind her bed, so he dismissed the idea.

Viktor walked to the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea to warm himself before going to bed. He was dragging his feet across the polished wooden floor and feeling exhausted.

It had been a while since life had gotten too _ordinary_ and that alone was enough to make Viktor feel cranky and tired, even sadder than he would like to feel—more than he usually did anyway. Sure, there was something comforting on having a pattern to follow every day, but routines were exhausting, and Viktor was getting closer and closer to reaching his limit—like a pressure cooker cracking from the pressure.

All of his days happened in similar fashion: he would wake up early, he would spend the morning with Makkachin around the park near his apartment complex, go to the supermarket to buy some food, sit down to think of his future spectacles and then give up on preparing something to eat and just order something from the closest restaurant.

After lunch, Viktor would read something, watch some TV or take a nap, he would get ready for the night, he would stand in front of hundreds of people, he would perform, and he would return home afterward, feeling like his limbs were made of lead.

It was too painful to remember how he used to have fun a couple of years in the past when he felt like the whole world was at his feet. Still, those memories were often present in Viktor’s mind, no matter how hard he tried to ignore them.

Viktor took his cup of tea and moved back to the living room, collapsing into the couch.

Viktor had everything he ever dreamed of. He had the support of his loyal fans that always did encouraged him to do his best, and yet, it was too easy to feel lonely all the time. He had money and fame, but that meant nothing when he was feeling like all his possessions were worthless.

Every day, he would return home where his growing collection of golden trophies, medals and prizes gathered dust while he barely managed to look at them. They were a reminder of everything he sacrificed to arrive at the top, but at the same time they seemed to demand and scream at him in an irreproachable tone:

_Why are you not happy?_

_Why are you still not satisfied?_

_Will you ever be satisfied?_

_Why are you not happy?_

_Why are you not happy?_

_Why are you not happy?!_

Viktor would have loved to know the answer.

Suddenly, it feels too cramped inside the room and Viktor set his half-full cup of tea on the coffee table. He laid back onto the couch, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

He fell asleep like that, not even noticing when his consciousness had slipped away until Makkachin nudged his leg insistently the following morning. Viktor opened his bleary eyes, petting Makkachin’s head and acknowledging the need for her morning walk.

Viktor's neck and shoulders hurt after a night spent sleeping uncomfortably. Still, he hurried to the bathroom to clean his face as fast as he could. He changed his clothes afterward, leaving his crumpled tuxedo on his bed and taking a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt from his drawers.

The morning was too cold—but that was not surprising at all—and Viktor retrieved his jacket on his way to the door, crossing the threshold with Makkachin following him diligently.

Viktor was closing the door behind him, when a yell made him stop in his tracks.

“Hey, Viktor!” Viktor turned around to find Yuri Plisetsky staring at him with barely—not at all—concealed disdain. “I heard you won yet another European prize.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Viktor answered, half wondering how much time Yuri spent outside his door waiting for him.

Viktor started to walk toward the elevator, hearing Yuri’s footsteps as he was being followed.

“You don't need all those prizes.” Yuri spat, crossing his arms.

“You don't know that.” Viktor sighed when Yuri also stepped into the elevator just before the door closed.

“Compete against me in a magic duel!” Yuri exclaimed.

Viktor turned around to face the teen. “You won’t give up, will you?”

Yuri Plisetsky was well known for climbing up the magic rankings at an almost worrying pace, always looking for new challenges to emerge victorious and get more and more points to be able to compete in the most exclusive competitions.

Viktor first noticed Yuri when he first started to follow him around, urging him to take up his challenge, arguing that he wanted to be _the one_ to take the crown from the best in the world.

Viktor had been there when Yuri had managed to convince Georgi Popovich to compete against him. The outcome has not been favorable for the older magician and Georgi—always _too emotional_ —fell to his knees while tears welled in his eyes, not quite believing that a child had been able to crush him.

Georgi was the ninth ranked in the world and that victory should have given Yuri enough points to qualify in tenth place, but Yuri wanted even more points—he wanted all of them.

“ _Soon, you’ll be too old to defend your title anyway_.” Yuri had said once, and it was almost painful for Viktor to admit that he was probably right.

In all honesty, Yuri was not a bad kid. Sure, he could be mean, harsh and even rude if he wanted to, but he was not exactly malicious. It was not a secret that he had had a difficult childhood, becoming the breadwinner of his small family at a young age while he also tried to deal with the pressure of being the new magic prodigy that the whole world was watching.

Yuri followed Viktor while he walked to the nearest park. Makkachin seemed interested in Yuri as she walked next to him, and Yuri pretended that he did not pat her head a couple of times.

“Are you going to walk behind me stubbornly until I accept your challenge?” Viktor asked, waving at the kind _babushka_ who lived in the building in front of his that he often met when he was walking around the park.

“Maybe, _so_?” Yuri clearly was trying to get a reaction out of Viktor and that was exactly the reason why Viktor tried to stay calm.

He just shook his head—arguing in the middle of a calm park where old ladies liked to sit and feed the pigeons was the last thing he wanted. Especially because a couple of them had baked delicious _kulibiak_ for him that reminded him of the pleasant parts of his childhood. Lilia had not baked frequently but when she did, her food was perfect, like every other thing she did.

(Viktor was still not sure if she used any kind of spells to make her food so delicious.)

“You really need to start picking challenges with someone close to your own age,” Viktor commented.

“I already challenged them and won.” Yuri shrugged.

“Of course you did.”

Viktor stopped in front of a small café he visited after his morning walks with Makkachin. He liked the place: it was warm and cozy, and they allowed pets, which was always nice.

Viktor walked to the register to order a coffee.

“Welcome.” The barista smiled at him. “What can I get for you?”

“A cappuccino to go,” Viktor turned back to look at Yuri who is still standing by the door. “Do you want something to eat?”

“I don’t want anything from you aside from your rank!” Yuri replied.

“Please add a _vatrushka_ to my order,” Viktor said to the barista.

He paid and waited for a couple of minutes, making his way to the door after retrieving the coffee and the paper bag containing the dessert, giving it to Yuri after they both cross the threshold of the café.

“I told you I didn’t want anything,” Yuri argued but he still unwrapped the _vatrushka_ and took a big bite of it.

“Consider it a peace offering.” Viktor kneeled to place an arm around Makkachin.

“A delicious dessert is not going to make me change my mind.”

“I know, call me when you master your transportation spells. See you later, Yura,” Viktor says, listening to Yuri’s scream of surprise for a second before he finds himself back at his apartment.

Makkachin whined, not looking happy at having her time outside being cut short. Viktor scratched behind her ears, feeling a little dizzy himself. He fell to the couch to finally enjoy his coffee, letting Makkachin climb to the couch and summoning his phone on the palm of his hand, not feeling like looking for it around the apartment.

Viktor noticed the great number of unread messages he received overnight. Most of them contained a link accompanied by some message. Some were written with excitement, like the one from Chris ( _Watch this! It’s amazing, isn’t it ;)_ ); while others—Yakov’s—were not really encouraging ( _Vitya, don’t make any half-assed decisions because of_ that _viral video!_ ).

It was obvious that Viktor had to open that link. At first the video was not really interesting and the hands of the person holding it were trembling a bit too much, but after twenty seconds of unfocused confusion, the image improved, and Viktor was able to see what was happening clearer.

The video showed a magic competition of sorts, someone was bowing on the stage before the lights dimmed and the performance started. It did not take long for Viktor to identify the movements of the magician on the stage, Viktor had moved just like that countless of times before, but there was still something different.

Sure, the magician was replicating some of his old and memorable tricks, but there was a unique charm surrounding that stage that made them shine brighter than the reflectors.

As soon as the video ended, Viktor put his coffee away, and looked up for the name of the person that managed to make such a great rendition of his magic. It was written in foreign characters and Viktor had to use a really bad translator to figure out which ones he had to copy and paste to the search bar.

As expected, 勝生 勇利 did not give him plenty of results in English, but Viktor kept scrolling down the results page, stopping for a moment when he found an old Instagram clip of a drunk magician, one that he had completely forgotten about, but that gave him the final piece to know the identity of the person that managed to captivate him thanks to the tags written both in Japanese and English.

Viktor bit his lower lip as he searched for _Yuuri Katsuki_. The second time, it was easy to get the information he wanted, especially because it seemed like the whole world was too aware of the video and the implications of that performance. Most of the comments agreed that the video was the chosen way for Yuuri Katsuki to challenge the reigning champion and to take his place.

Viktor learned that Yuuri was a magician from Japan, ranked fifth in the world. And yet, his personal life was a mystery aside from his occasional appearances on his friend’s Instagram posts. Viktor also learned that when Yuuri moved, his body was like a lyrical melody of passion and magic, and everyone in the room was unable to take his eyes off him.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Viktor whispered, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and even laughing a little.

He could not wait to meet him.

“ **W** ake up,” Viktor whispers into Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri groans, half pushing Viktor away, not appreciating waking up early in the morning. Viktor laughs and wraps his arms around Yuuri’s torso, hearing Yuuri mutter something—definitely a curse word—in Japanese.

“What time is it?” Yuuri asks, rolling lazily to the side until he is lying on his back.

Viktor seizes the opportunity to press some kisses under his jaw.

“A bit before 7,” Viktor answers.

Yuuri covers his eyes with his forearm, reaching out with his other hand to retrieve his glasses from the bedside table, fumbling to no avail until Viktor giggles and takes the glasses himself.

“Too early,” Yuuri mumbles.

Viktor pries Yuuri’s arm from his face, placing his glasses where they belong. Yuuri blinks at him, still looking like he would prefer to go back to sleep.

“We have a plane to catch in a couple of hours, love,” Viktor reminds him, noticing how Yuuri blushes at the endearment.

A moment later, Yuuri lets his head fall back to the pillows, sliding his fingers through his hair and moving his bangs away from his forehead.

“I’ll get up in a couple of hours then.”

“You know it’ll be too late to catch the flight,” Viktor says.

“I’ll use magic to travel there,” Yuuri replies.

“Really?” Viktor conjures a handful of snowflakes and throws them playfully at Yuuri. Most of them land on the pillows and Yuuri’s hair. “It’s not that simple, not if you’re taking luggage with you all the way to France.”

“Why snow? Why _now_?” Yuuri shivers, and it should not turn Viktor on so much, but it does as the memory of Yuuri lying under him, shivering and moaning under different circumstances surfaces in his mind.

“They say icy water is good to wake up, sleepy head.”

“It’s actually cold water, not _frozen_ water,” Yuuri argues.

“I know, but this is funnier.” Viktor kisses his cheek where a couple of snowflakes have fallen.

“Okay, just give me five more minutes.” Yuuri resigns to his fate with a sigh.

Viktor rakes his nails down Yuuri’s sides at the same time he slides down until his face is hovering over Yuuri’s stomach as he supports his weight on his elbows.

“I understand that you feel tired because of last night. I mean the second round was great. You didn't have to go that _hard_ , but you did that, you did it to make me scream.”

Yuuri smacks Viktor’s shoulder playfully as he laughs. “That was a terrible joke,” he says.

“I only speak the truth.” Viktor sits, straddling Yuuri’s hips as the sheets slide off his body.

With both of his arms free, Viktor keeps tracing paths all over Yuuri's skin, noticing how Yuuri breath gets ragged when his fingers brush the area below his navel teasingly.

He winks at Yuuri, who is looking at him with half-lidded eyes, but now Viktor knows that sleepiness is not the main cause for it, not when Yuuri is getting hard again—after a few hours of sleep after two _very_ satisfying rounds of sex.

Viktor licks his lips, letting himself think for a second about the real extent of Yuuri’s stamina.

“Viktor.” Yuuri interrupts Viktor’s thoughts, placing his hand on his cheek.

Viktor smirks, knowing perfectly what Yuuri wants, noticing the way Yuuri’s tight trembles when he leans down to place a kiss on it, and how Yuuri moves his palm up to Viktor’s hair.

Instead of going down on him, Viktor moves back to kiss Yuuri’s pliant lips, morning breath being the last of his concerns when Yuuri brushes the seam of Viktor’s lips with his tongue. It would be too easy to just give in and kiss Yuuri for the rest of the morning, but Viktor knows they should not, and he is sure that Yuuri is also aware of that.

“Your five minutes are up,” Viktor whispers against Yuuri’s mouth, pressing a last kiss to it.

“Wait!” Yuuri sits up on the bed, not managing to catch Viktor’s hand as he scurries to the other side of the room.

“We will have time for that later,” Viktor promises with a wink. “Now get up, we should have something for breakfast before leaving.”

Viktor walks to the bathroom to take a quick shower, retrieving some clean clothes on his way and looking at Yuuri who falls back to the mattress with a groan. Viktor smiles.

Being in love makes time move faster and yet, sometimes Viktor feels like time has stopped altogether. Yuuri seems to be still a little wary about their relationship, showing that he cares too much when he acts _too_ cautiously, like any of his movements or actions could send Viktor far away from him.

Sure, Viktor like to remind Yuuri of his feelings every time he has the chance to do so. He notices how Yuuri’s words of love often get caught inside his throat or just gets them out of his system all at once, when he rambles about feelings that he does not quite understand yet, but that still make his heart skip a beat.

Still, Yuuri’s soft smile and bright eyes when he looks at Viktor like he cannot believe that Viktor really loves him with his whole heart, is enough for Viktor to know that he is loved in return.

Viktor does not spend a lot of time in the shower, preferring to use his time under the water as a revitalizing moment instead of a relaxing one. Yuuri walks into the bathroom when Viktor is getting dress, not long after he stepped out of the shower.

“Too bad you couldn’t join me,” Viktor teases but in reality, he is _almost_ glad that Yuuri spent extra time lazing on the bed, because otherwise they would have had _great_ shower sex which would have been amazing _if they did not have a plane to catch_.

“Too bad you showered quickly,” Yuuri retorts, placing his glasses on the small counter.

“There’s always a next time.” Viktor purposely bites his lower lip seductively.

He walks out of the bathroom faster than Yuuri’s half-asleep mind can formulate a reply, making his way to the kitchen. Viktor expects Makkachin to greet him excitedly when he walks into the living room before he remembers that his dog is currently at the Katsuki’s household back in Hasetsu, staying with Yuuri’s family for the weekend until they return home.

 _Home_. Viktor does not hesitate anymore when he claims that for him, home is wherever that Yuuri happens to be.

Viktor prepares _kashas_ for breakfast, boiling oats with fresh milk. He has never been a great cook, but he is not a bad one either. After spending so much time alone, he is used to prepare simple traditional dishes that he has started to cook for Yuuri. He in return, cooks traditional Japanese food that Viktor has come to appreciate.

Yuuri is definitely a better cook, talented even and Viktor is sure that it is something that he got from his mother. However, Yuuri eats everything that Viktor cooks without complaining or hesitating, and he praises Viktor every time, even when Viktor is sure that his _syrniki_ are nothing special.

Viktor does not spend a lot of time alone in the kitchen. He is preparing tea and coffee when Yuuri joins him, dragging his feet across the floor until he is standing behind Viktor.

Yuuri places his forehead between Viktor’s shoulders and wraps his arms around Viktor’s body. Viktor hums, placing his hands on top of Yuuri’s, rubbing small circles on his skin.

“Breakfast is ready,” Viktor says, but he does not make a move to retrieve some plates or cups, until Yuuri does and lets him go.

Yuuri’s hair is disheveled, his glasses are sliding down his nose until he pushes them back up. He is wearing plain comfortable clothes that he will need to survive the long travel they have ahead.

They eat in silence and at one point, Yuuri reaches to take Viktor’s hand over the table and effectively makes Viktor’s chest hurt. Even though it is a casual gesture, it never fails to fill his heart with love.

Before leaving for the airport, Viktor runs a mental list of everything that he might had forgotten to pack. Next to his suitcase, is Yuuri’s. He arrived the previous night dragging it behind him, intending to spend the night at Viktor’s place.

Yuuri had looked nervous during the night, completely different from the relaxed demeanor that now makes him look tired. Maybe Yuuri has gotten better at hiding his emotions from Viktor, or maybe he is _indeed_ tired; Viktor is not sure of how much sleep Yuuri had managed to get in the previous nights when he was not by his side.

“Are you ready to leave?” Viktor asks.

Yuuri wraps his scarf around his neck, half burying his face in the fabric.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he mutters, and Viktor is sure that he is indeed anxious and trying to hide it.

“Come on, let’s go.” Viktor takes Yuuri’s hand, drawing circles on his skin over the fabric of their gloves.

They cross the threshold together, and Viktor closes the door behind them, feeling ready to face the World Championship of Magic with Yuuri by his side for the first time ever.

**I** t is not difficult to figure out that Yuuri is prone to jet lag more than Viktor. Viktor had tried to keep Yuuri busy taking him to an impromptu parade to some of the city attractions—a plan that could have worked better in a different season, one with longer and warmer days.

Alas, Yuuri is crankier and more exhausted on their walk back to the hotel than before. It makes Viktor upset because Yuuri looks ready to collapse onto the nearest horizontal surface and that, is in part, his fault. The fact that they had a hard day and that it is almost 2 a.m. in Japan just adds to the reasons why going out for a walk was not the best of Viktor’s ideas.

Arriving in Paris had been more hectic than Viktor had wanted or expected, but he had walked out of the plane by Yuuri’s side and that was the kind of gossip that reporters and journalists had been waiting for to start a weekend full of gossip and magic scandals.

“ _Monsieur Nikiforov ! Monsieur Katsuki ! Pouvez-vous nous parlez de votre relation ?_ ” the reporters asked and shoved their microphones close to their faces.

“Just ignore them,” Viktor told Yuuri, who was obviously overwhelmed, tired and ready to run away. “ _Nous n'allons pas répondre aux questions_.” He adds in hurried French.

Viktor understood Yuuri’s feelings perfectly. After spending 13 hours inside a plane, he was ready to transform those microphones and cameras into snakes, but he contained himself, not wanting to be the one to create the first scandal of the season.

They rushed to their hotel and did their check-in quickly but then, Viktor proposed to go on a walk to stretch their legs, do some sightseeing and maybe buy something good to eat and clean their palates after they had to eat the sad and dull airplane food.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri,” Viktor apologizes, closing the door behind him.

Yuuri rummages around his suitcase, looking for something to wear for bed, even though it is barely past 7 p.m. in their current time zone and they both still need to get something for dinner.

“It’s not your fault,” Yuuri mutters. “I knew I was forgetting something.” He huffs.

“You can borrow something from me,” Viktor suggests.

Yuuri just opens Viktor’s luggage and takes a pair of sweatpants from it, changing his clothes quickly.

Viktor just stands awkwardly by their room’s door, pretending to be interested in the hotel’s décor. He is still hungry and wanting some fine wine, not really sure if Yuuri wants to sleep with him, or if he should make himself comfortable at the couch.

“Come here,” Yuuri whispers at last.

Viktor does not need to be told twice and he strides across the room to lay next to Yuuri on the bed. Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor’s neck, pulling his face closer to kiss his lips.

“Don’t forget to turn on the alarm,” Yuuri mumbles and then, he finally falls asleep.

Viktor would probably do that, probably should also take a shower before sleeping, but the mattress feels heavenly and after all, Viktor is more tired than he is willing to admit, so it is not very surprising when Viktor falls asleep too.

The next morning is a busy one. Viktor wakes up twenty minutes later than he expected, and it only gets worse when Yuuri opens his eyes fifteen minutes later and realizes that he overslept.

Yuuri looks like he might pass out judging by how much he is trembling as he moves around in a frenzy, getting ready as fast as he can. He is shoving everything he might need into his open suitcase, double checking that his suit is still in pristine condition and not wrinkled.

Viktor moves around at a more leisurely pace, feeling guilty for not waking Yuuri up before he took a shower. Everything he needs is already ready, and he tries to help Yuuri as best as he can, just to discover that he is more of help when he is not in Yuuri’s way.

The World Championship of Magic is in one word: _intense_ , but that was bound to be expected when the greatest magicians from all around the world fill the hallways of the venue while they practice, rest, or intimidate each other.

The air smells like a strange combination of perfume, smoke and sweat that makes Viktor’s stomach lurch but keeps him alert at the same time. The fact that he only had the time to eat a rushed breakfast before leaving the hotel is not really helping.

There are only two ways to get into the World Championship of Magic: by a system of points that only allows the best ten magicians in the world to qualify and compete, and by an invitation based on popularity that allows ten extra competitors for each of the main categories: men, ladies and pairs.

Official competitions and magic challenges between magicians are used in order to get points. Someone would usually get between 100 and 1000 points for every winning battle and would lose an equal quantity of points if defeated. However, a win against someone placed in the first ranks could be enough for _anyone_ to earn a place in the competition.

The popularity rank is an easier one to understand, aside from the ten originally selected, twenty-four more influential and loved magicians from the world get the chance to compete in two categories. Out of them, eight share the stage with the highest ranked in the world, while the rest compete for a smaller prize.

Both options could get someone an invitation several months beforehand, wrapped in a fancy envelope that can only be opened with a drop of blood from the proper recipient.

Viktor has been competing in the Championship since he was a teen, managing to stand as the undefeated champion for five years in a row, an incredible feat that only a few in history could match. His popularity is also high enough to guarantee him a place even if he suddenly managed to lose all his points (not like that is going to happen).

Yuuri received his invitation letter on a hot day in August when Viktor was by his side, lying down on the couch, busy placing kisses all over his neck. The letter arrived in a loud cloud of smoke that startled Yuuri and made him sit up on the couch as the envelope fell to his hands.

Without any word, Yuuri walked to the kitchen and cut his fingertip with a knife, letting a single drop of blood fall to the envelope, which opened to reveal its contents as the paper was stained.

Viktor moved to stand behind Yuuri, as Yuuri’s eyes scanned the page quickly before he shoved it into his pocket, but Viktor had been still able to see the written Kanji characters changing into familiar Cyrillic letters, and the words were clear: _Katsuki Yuuri we are pleased to invite you to the World Championship of Magic to be celebrated next year_.

Viktor received his own invitation a couple of weeks before Yuuri, the enchanted paper showed him the letter written in Russian, until he let it fall to his desk as the words disappeared, and where it eventually got covered by books.   

Yuuri did not talk about the letter or the Championship for months, until he officially revealed his intentions of participating in the event, and Viktor also kept his silence.

Yuuri bumps Viktor’s shoulder when he gets too close to him, snapping him out of reverie and bringing him back to the present where he suddenly stopped his pace while walking down a busy hallway.

“Sorry,” Yuuri mutters, taking a step back.

Viktor is about to tell him not to worry about it, but he does not have the chance to formulate any words: not when Yuri Plisetsky is by his side the next second, looking murderous and holding his cat.

“So, this is the _other_ _Yuri_ ,” Yuri says. He tries to cross his arms while he still holds his pet, but Potya squirms in his arms, so he does not try any longer. “He’s too plain-looking to be the one who really made you leave everything behind.”

Viktor looks down at Yuuri, who looks tired and maybe a little pale. Then, he looks back at Yuri.

“ _Really? I think he looks gorgeous_ ,” Viktor answers in Russian. Yuuri cannot understand him, but Viktor still tugs Yuuri closer, placing his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and resuming their walking, ignoring everyone’s eyes on them.

Yuri follows them. “What the hell?!”

“I already told you what I think.” Viktor shrugs.

“ _Fine_ ,” Yuri whines, he hurries to stand in front of Viktor and Yuuri. “Then, I guess I’ll have to eliminate you both, in a magic duel! That’s it!”

Potya jumps to the floor and he grows with every step he takes, until a big white lion stands in front of them. Potya nudges Yuri’s side, making the teen look tiny compared to the powerful feline by his side. Yuri’s hands sizzle with energy and that is enough to still make him look like he is serious about his threat.

“Don’t worry about it, Yuuri,” Viktor says. “He’s just trying to intimidate you.”

“I know,” Yuuri replies, speaking for the first time in a while, slipping away from Viktor’s hold. “It won’t be too easy for him to do so.”

Yuuri takes a step closer to Yuri, lifting his hand and with a twitch of it, the lion shrinks until its original size, and Yuri picks up his cat from the ground. The teen’s cheeks are pink in embarrassment.

“Whatever! I’ll win this, even if you don’t like it!” Yuri stomps walking until he opens a door and walks into what Viktor supposes is his designated dressing room.

“He was totally underestimating me,” Yuuri mutters, and those five words remind Viktor that in reality, Yuuri hates being taken for granted.

Yuuri has always been competitive—he hates losing and him being placed in the fifth place of the worldwide ranking is no mistake. He never backs down from a challenge, has been winning Japanese magic prizes for years. Viktor is sure that Yuuri would had climbed higher in the ranks if he had focused on winning international competitions too.

Viktor is about to open his mouth and say something but Phichit Chulanont walks to Yuuri’s side and throws his arm around Yuuri’s shoulder, hugging him like Viktor did a moment ago.

“Hey Viktor!” Phichit exclaims. “You have been monopolizing all of Yuuri’s time lately”

“It’s more like the other way around.” Viktor laughs. A rosy tint paints Yuuri’s cheeks.

“I think I’ll go get ready now,” Yuuri says, changing the direction of the conversation, and Viktor finally notices the group of girls that are whispering between themselves.

That makes him remember that they are not alone: that while the press is still out of the building, there are still dozens of eyes looking at them.

“Sure, I’ll see you at the competition.” Viktor smirks, turning around and walking in the opposite direction towards his own dressing room.

He should get ready as well. The Championship starts at noon after all.

**T** he camera flashes are too bright, but Viktor keeps smiling. Everyone wants his picture, everyone asks about what he thinks of his competitors, and everyone asks about Yuuri—everyone claims that the world will finally know who the best is.

Viktor is glad when he finally finds himself backstage, where the number of cameras is limited, and everyone is busy with their last pre-championship preparations.

Yuuri is adjusting his bowtie in front of a mirror that floats in front of him when Viktor finds him. His hair is slicked back, his glasses are nowhere to be found and he is wearing an elegant black tuxedo minus the jacket.

It is the first time Viktor see Yuuri’s suit for the competition—or at least, part of it—and Yuuri looks dashing.

“I think I just found the most handsome magician here,” Viktor says in a sultry tone.

Yuuri turns to look at him. Viktor notices Yuuri’s eyes on him, the way he tries to be subtle as he ogles at Viktor’s own clothes—black waistcoat with cherry and gold details on the shirt and tie. The dark fabric has Swarovski crystals sewn to it, and he has a pair of pristine white gloves to go with the outfit.

“You look good too,” Yuuri comments.

Viktor almost follows his impulse of shoving Yuuri into the nearest broom closet to kiss him, but the competition is about to start. Everyone gets called to take their places: the first 16 competitors to the stage and the rest to the seats reserved for them.

“May the best magician win,” Viktor says, looking at Yuuri.

Yuuri takes Viktor’s hand, and squeezes it like a promise. “Of course.”

Impressing the judges in seven minutes or less is a difficult task even for the most experienced magicians. There is so much and so little they can do with that time and timing is everything.

Viktor laments the fact that Yuuri is not sitting by his side until Chris takes the seat on his left.

“It’s good to be back under the spotlight,” Chris comments, he wears a jacket covered in elegant swirls made of red sequins.

“Indeed,” Viktor agrees, chuckling when he sees Yuri’s face when he notices that his designated seat is between Yuuri and that Canadian magician that he despises so much.

“I mean, I don’t regret working as an assistant, but I’ve missed the rush of adrenaline that comes with magic competitions.” Chris sighs. “Here’s where the real thrill is.”

The spectacle beings not long after. The first part will last two hours from the first presentation to the award ceremony, then they will all move backstage to participate in the draw that will determine their participation order for the second and most important round.

Viktor sees how a couple of the younger, less inexperienced magicians made mistakes that they cannot recover from, but most of them do well, after all most of them hold a good rank.

It feels too soon when they are about to announce the winners and they have to return backstage to participate in the draw.

The draw is easy enough, everyone hovers their right hand over an enchanted crystal ball and a number between one and eighteen gets printed on their skin. There is no way to delete it or change it, and it stays on the palm of their hands like a tattoo until it eventually disappears after their show is over.

Viktor is the first to get a number, he passes his hand over the crystal ball quickly, and a _10_ gets printed on the palm of his hand. It is not a bad place, he will have enough time to relax backstage until he gets called to participate.

Chris gets the eighth place, Yuri gets the seventeenth, and then, it is Yuuri’s turn. He hesitates as he walks to the crystal ball.

“Please, anything but the first.” Viktor hears Yuuri muttering as he extends his arm to get a number, a second later Yuuri yelps when he sees the number, because on his palm there an elegantly written number _18_. He will be the last one to compete.

Yuuri walks straight to one of the couches where competitors rest until it is their turn. Viktor sits by his side, he wants to reach for his hand, but he does not.

“Are you okay?” Viktor asks Yuuri, when he sees his trouble expression.

“Well, I’ll be the last one,” Yuuri answers. “I will have to sit here while everyone goes out to the stage before me, it’s kinda nerve racking.”

“You will be fine,” Viktor assures him. “Everything will be fine.”

“I’m wearing the locket for good luck.” Yuuri whispers.

Viktor smiles, feeling loved. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

However, as the first competitors start to step into the stage, Viktor notices that Yuuri is not completely fine. He bounces his leg up and down, and he seems like he is trying to block out the sound of the music that accompanies the routines and the clapping afterward. Viktor is also sure that Yuuri is avoiding looking in the direction of the screens that show up what is happening outside.

Viktor knows that it is not Yuuri’s first Championship. He has definitely seen him around before at least a couple of times, even though he has not paid much attention to him before. He had even forgotten his name. The fact that Yuuri has always been quiet and unobtrusive and weirdly anxious about being in the same room as Viktor had not made their communication easier in previous years.

Viktor takes Yuuri’s hand and Yuuri jumps, startled he looks at Viktor. It is pretty obvious that Yuuri is nervous, his lower lip is red like he has been biting it. Viktor almost traces it with his thumb, resisting the impulse when he notices Yuri glaring daggers at them from the other side of the room while he engages in a conversation with the Kazakh representative.

The teen is definitely ready and looking forward to _crushing them_ , like he promised earlier. Viktor squeezes Yuuri’s hand and the he lets it go, crossing his arms.

Viktor gets called to the stage not long after and he gets to his feet, sliding his gloves into his hands. Viktor turns back to say goodbye and wish Yuuri good luck, but Yuuri pulls at his tie like it is the most natural thing to do, surprising Viktor and making him gasp. Their faces get so close that their noses almost touch, and Viktor can see the fierce determination on Yuuri’s pretty eyes.

“Viktor,” he whispers. “When it’s my turn to go to the stage, don’t you even dare to take your eyes off me. I won’t take mine off you.”

Viktor nods, feeling his face getting a little hot, and he thinks for a second that Yuuri is going to kiss him… but then, Yuuri places his hand on Viktor’s sternum, pushing him back. Viktor wants to say some words of encouragement, wants to promise Yuuri that he will be watching, but yet again, Yuuri is faster, placing his index finger on Viktor’s lips, before he can speak.

“Don’t say anything. Just go, the audience waits for you.” Yuuri smiles. “Like you said before, may the best one win.”

Viktor does exactly that. He steps into the stage and raises his arms, greeting the audience that cheers for him.

He chose dramatic music to play during his whole presentation that, like usual, starts with him rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and holding a deck of card in his hand. He does not take his gloves away: it is more difficult to manipulate the cards that way, but Viktor likes difficult things.

One by one, Viktor lets the cards slip from his grasp, but he does not let them fall to the ground, until the whole deck is suspended in the air around him.

Viktor takes a handkerchief from his pocket, and he transforms it to a wand, shaking it a couple of times until the fabric is no longer soft and silky, but closer to the wood’s hard texture. He touches the tip of it with his finger and a flame ignites on it.

Viktor sets fire to all the cards in the deck but the aces making them disappear with a snap of his fingers. He shakes the wand until he put the fire out. Then, Viktor taps the remaining card, making them change color from white to blue, green, purple and yellow.

First, Viktor takes the Ace of Spades on his hands, shakes the card and a whole new deck appears on his hand, which he opens like a fan. He throws the cards behind him, and a bunch of small blue flowers falls to the ground— _forget me nots_ , dozens of them.

Viktor takes the Ace of Clubs next, blows at it and a whole new deck flies away from that single card. Viktor smiles as he picks those cards up, with an easy movement of his hand, and he places the deck between his palms. He rubs his palms together, showing them to the audience a moment after.

The cards are gone from his hands, but he snaps his fingers and the whole stage is suddenly covered by green clover-shaped stars.

Viktor does something different with the Ace of Diamonds. He folds it in half and then unfolds it, making the card grow to the double its original size. He repeats the operation until he has a big card on his hands, and then he rips it in small pieces, collecting them in his hands. Viktor throws the pieces to the sides, but when they fly away from his hands, they are no longer pieces of yellow paper, but yellow normal-sized cards.

The last one is the Ace of Hearts and Viktor throws it to the air in the audience’s direction. He snaps his fingers again and the card explodes, making rain heart-shaped confetti all over the assistants.

For his closing trick, Viktor throws more and more cards around of all colors and sizes. He sets two of them on fire, which he transforms to a pair of white doves, and he does it again. The doves fly around the stage until they stop to perch on the shoulders of apparently random people.

“Does any of you wonder what happened with the first cards I set aflame at the beginning of the show?” Viktor asks the audience, addressing them for the first time. “If a dove has perched on your shoulder, you should take a look under your seats.”

The selected people get to their feet and each one is holding a suit of cards in their hands.

Viktor extends both of his arms and accepts the applauses that he receives with a smile. He steps of the stage, walking down the stairs to the area reserved for magicians and waits for his scores to be announced. The judges evaluate the creativity, the interpretation, the difficulty and the overall composition to get a maximum score of 100 points.

Viktor gets a 93 and that is enough to move him to the first place, making Chris go down to second.

“Good show,” Chris says, shaking Viktor’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” Viktor answers, he takes off his gloves just in time to see the number 10 vanishing from his palm. “I’m sure yours was great as well.”

The competition continues.

Seung-gil Lee is good, but he looks like he is not completely focused on his performance, or rather like he is _too_ focused on his movements, leaving aside the emotions that he should convey to make the show even better. Jean-Jacques Leroy is too loud, and his performance is too flashy, even while doing something that everyone has seen countless times before, levitating a sleeping woman in the air.

Otabek Altin keeps his serious expression while he makes a myriad of objects disappear and appear again, daring to even take the Eiffel Tower away from the city’s landscape for a moment before the incredulous eyes of the tourists. Phichit charms the audience with a playful performance, making fans appear out of nowhere and changing its color and size as he twirls them around and sends them flying in different directions.

Some magicians look happy with their scores and performances, like Emil Nekola who will not place in the top after getting 79 points, but who still smiles after breaking his previous best. Others lament their low scores and frown, like Guang-Hong Ji, whose magical origami figures were not enough to impress the judging panel.

When it is Yuri Plisetsky’s turn, he steps into the stage with his cat and an intense song full of screams and mad guitar riffs starts playing. Most of the competitors try to be refined and elegant with their movements, but not Yuri. He moves in a brash way around the stage, setting things on fire while Potya follows him in his lion form.

Yuri makes more dangerous felines appear on the stage below a huge red blanket, that he takes away to reveal a pair of huge tigers that make everyone cower in their seats. Yuri throws a handful of plastic figures of lions and cheetahs to the ground, and they grow up until they reach the real size of the real animals that live in the wild.

When his time is about to end Yuri makes the lions, tigers and cheetahs disappear on a cloud of smoke and makes Potya go back to his original size, sliding down to the floor until the music (and the screams) stop.

Yuri manages to get 89 points, a point higher than Otabek who high-fives him when he sits by his side and two points more than Jean-Jacques Leroy received, something that makes Yuri overjoyed.

The last competitor is announced, and Viktor can barely contain his excitement when Yuuri walks out into the stage.

For the first time, Viktor is able to see Yuuri’s complete suit. The jacket and waistcoat are decorated with gorgeous blue and golden details. He wears a black top hat and white gloves to complement his classic look, and Viktor is sure that Yuuri is the most beautiful person to have ever stepped into the stage.

Yuuri bows to the audience as the lights go out and the music starts—a soft piano melody. Like usual, a firework lights up the stage and the sparkles rain down all the way to the floor.

Yuuri takes the hat off his head, shows it to the audience and places it on the floor. He walks around it, taps it three times with his foot, and then he kneels down to slide his hand into it.

It is not a bunny what he takes out of the hat, but a street lamp which he lifts and places in the middle of the stage. The second time, Yuuri takes out a small bench which grows up in size so Yuuri can sit comfortably on it for a moment, before the gets back to his feet as the music comes to a stop and the lights dim, making the stage look like dusk during summer.

It was a nice prelude, but know Viktor is sure that the real act is about to start.

The reflectors make the rhinestones on Yuuri’s suit glint as he moves his arms in circles, creating a humanoid figure made of white smoke.

Yuuri bows, placing a hand on his stomach and the other one on his back and the smoky human mirrors him, bowing in the same fashion at the same time. Then, Yuuri stretches his arms, offering his hand like he would do to a real dance partner, with the palm facing upwards in a silent invitation.

The figure reaches out to hold Yuuri’s hand as if it is alive, and Yuuri his other hand on the figure’s waist. Viktor can see Yuuri actually smirking when a waltz fills the silence left by the piano piece.

Viktor knows Yuuri is _really_ good at dancing. When Yuuri dances Viktor holds his breath because there is magic in the way he moves.

More than once, he had been lucky to see Yuuri dancing up close—from the times when he got to appreciate the way Yuuri moved his whole body provocatively, rolling his hips slowly and sliding his hands down his body following a sensual beat in a show that was _only for Viktor_ , to the unforgettable moments when Yuuri pulled Viktor up to his feet so they could waltz around his living room, doing their best to avoid collisions with the furniture.

Viktor knows that Yuuri has spent years dancing during his free time, a pastime that has given him the agility to follow the steps devoid of any doubt or uncertainty. The muscle memory guides him to place his feet on the right places, but his natural musicality is what makes his dancing so beautiful.

Now, Yuuri dances around the stage. His feet leave blue swirls where he steps as he follows the rhythm, leading his ethereal partner and letting himself to be led by it in a beautiful dance that takes them to the air, like they are climbing an invisible stairway and then, down again.

Yuuri lets go his partner for a moment, jumping to the street light, holding himself with a hand and reaching for his dance partner with the other, but their hands never meet. The music gets slower and Yuuri walks to the other side of the stage, in the opposite direction of his partner made of smoke.

For his closing trick, Yuuri jumps inside his hat, appearing on the other side of the stage. Yuuri places a hand on his ethereal dance partner chest and the smoke turns into a multitude of butterflies of every imaginable color. They fly to the ceiling that suddenly looks like a clear sky, blue with the sun shining warmly between the clouds.

Yuuri receives a standing ovation and Viktor is the first one to stand from his seat, hurrying to the stage.

Viktor wraps his arms around Yuuri when they meet in the middle of the stairs. Yuuri laughs nervously, he is shaking, and his eyes shine with unreleased tears as he is finally letting all his emotions and anxiety out after his performance.

Yuuri holds Viktor tighter, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“How was that?” Yuuri asks, he sounds a little breathless and Viktor heart skips a beat.

“Beautiful,” he whispers into Yuuri’s ear. “I'm so proud of you, and I love you _so much_.”

“I love you too,” Yuuri says and Viktor feels his heart thundering inside his chest and he laughs.

Viktor places his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders and looks at his face as he finally starts to cry, half wiping the tears away with his gloves. He notices all the camera flashes that suddenly surround them, but he only cares about Yuuri and the sting on his eyes that comes with tears that he tries to contain.

Yuuri’s scores are announced and Viktor glances at them for a couple of seconds, not giving Yuuri enough time to see them before he throws his arms around Yuuri, spinning him around before Viktor catches his lips in a kiss, smiling against Yuuri’s mouth, feeling giddy with love. Feeling even better when Yuuri places both of his arms around his shoulders and kisses him back.

**T** he sun has almost disappeared from the horizon when Viktor arrives at the rooftop. He walks out of the building, feeling the cold air hitting him in the face.

Yuuri is standing close to the edge of the building. Both of his hands are inside his coat pockets, his scarf is half-tied around his neck and slipping down his shoulders while the wind stirs some strands of his hair.

He does not have to turn around for Viktor to know that he looks gorgeous.

“Yuuri!” Viktor calls.

Yuuri looks at Viktor. He is wearing his glasses again and his cheeks are a little red, most likely from the cold.

“Hi,” Yuuri says.

Viktor walks until he is standing in front of him.

“Gold looks good on you.” Viktor places his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, moving them to trace the ribbon that holds Yuuri’s new medal in place around his neck.

“And silver has always suited you,” Yuuri replies and Viktor gasps.

“ _Yuuri_!” Viktor exclaims, trying to sound at least a little outraged, but he is actually half-laughing when he speaks.

Viktor reaches below his scarf, moving the lapels of his long coat aside so he can touch the silver medal that he still keeps with him.

“I actually wasn’t expecting to win,” Yuuri confesses.

Viktor fixes Yuuri’s coat and scarf around his neck, so he will not get sick because of the cold air.

“Well, you’ll have to work hard to defend your title next year,” Viktor says. “I won’t go easy on you, that’s how I show my love.”

“I was expecting you to say something like that.” Yuuri giggles, placing his arms around Viktor’s neck.

“You’re getting to know me all too well,” Viktor whispers and he kisses Yuuri softly on the lips. It is a sweet and warm kiss, unlike the cold wind that keeps blowing by their side. “But also remember that Yuri swore that he’ll get his revenge, so you better don’t slack off.”

Yuuri laughs. It is a beautiful sound.

“I’m sure I won’t forget about that,” Yuuri promises.

“Good, I’d love you to win at least another four Championships.” Viktor places another kiss to Yuuri’s lips.

“I guess we’re still rivals then,” Yuuri mutters against Viktor’s lips.

“You’re right about that,” Viktor agrees. “I still don’t know what we should do to avoid the press now that they know that they were right all along about our secret love affair.”

“What if we just run away?” Yuuri suggests, but he does not meet Viktor’s eyes when he speaks.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Viktor starts. “I didn’t know you were the kind of man to elope with a lover.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of leaving the big city behind, go back to Hasetsu, spend time with Makkachin…” Yuuri trails off.

Viktor hugs him tight. “That sounds like an amazing idea.”

Yuuri places his hand on Viktor’s chin, guiding him down to kiss him again, laughing when their nose bump together almost painfully, because Viktor was too eager to kiss him back.

The sun finally disappears, going down until the next morning, and that is Viktor and Yuuri’s cue to go back to their hotel room, laughing as they walk down the city streets while they do their best to avoid the intrusive reporters and paparazzi that want to know even more about their private lives.

They arrive at their hotel, holding hands and dragging their suitcases behind them. Viktor also holds a bottle of fine wine that he bought in a nearby store.

Yuuri opens the door of their room, and Viktor frees himself from his winter clothes. He places his medal on the bedside table, loosens his tie, and he opens the wine that he has been craving since they landed in France.

“Remember when we used to spend some early mornings trading blowjobs and drinking wine?” Yuuri asks. He sits on Viktor’s lap, not bothering to look for a glass and drinking straight from the bottle.

A fine red trail of wine slides down Yuuri’s neck and Viktor catches it with his lips before Yuuri’s white shirt gets stained forever. Then, he kisses Yuuri, tastes the bitter taste of the wine on his tongue.

Viktor places the wine on the bedside table and falls back to the bed with Yuuri following close behind.

Yuuri bites Viktor’s lips as he kisses him fervently, moving his mouth with urgency. Viktor is happy to kiss him back. Yuuri takes a break from the kissing to recover his breath, dragging his teeth across Viktor’s jaw. Yuuri’s fingers move dexterously as he unbuttons Viktor’s waistcoat and shirt.

Yuuri traces the planes of Viktor’s chest with his hands. He is still wearing his gloves and Viktor misses the feeling of his bare palms, but it is not an unwelcome change at all. Viktor also starts to fumble with Yuuri’s clothes, sliding his tuxedo jacket off his shoulders and loosening his bow tie.

“I really love you, Viktor,” Yuuri says, brushing Viktor’s bangs to the side.

“Love you too,” Viktor whispers, tugging Yuuri down to kiss him again. But then, Yuuri break their kiss and stands from the bed, wiping away the saliva that has makes his lips shine.

Viktor is slightly confused. He sees the moment when Yuuri takes off his gloves and throws them to the air, notices that something shiny falls back to his open palm.

“I didn’t have the chance to give you a birthday gift,” Yuuri says.

Viktor does not care a lot about that. They were having some difficulties back then, but now he is glad to have Yuuri by his side.

“Don’t worry about that,” Viktor assures him.

“I still want to give you something.” Yuuri’s face has gotten really red and he struggles to keep eye contact with Viktor, he blows at whatever he is holding and speaks with a tiny voice. “You… you can open your hand now.”

Viktor did not even notice that his right hand is in a fist, but he is definitely holding something, so he does what Yuuri told him and he gasps when he sees the gold ring shining on his palm.

“You don’t have to say anything, but I wanted you to have it. I mean I know it seems impulsive and _it is_ , but I still hope you like it, because I’ve been thinking about this for a while now–well, actually it’s just been a couple of weeks, but yeah I should’ve prepared a nice speech about how much you mean to me…” Yuuri rambles.

Viktor tries to process his words, because Yuuri has given him a gold ring and now he is rambling, and there is only one possible explanation for what it is happening, and Viktor is sure that there is _only_ _one_ possible answer.

“Yes.” Viktor slides the ring into his fourth finger. He looks at Yuuri with fond eyes and a smile. “A thousand times _yes_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end~ ♡
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Some quick French translations:
> 
> ☆ _Pouvez-vous nous parlez de votre relation ?_ : Can you speak about your relationship?
> 
> ☆ _Nous n'allons pas répondre aux questions_ : We’re not going to answer questions.
> 
>   
> 
> 
> What are your final thoughts? there’s something that you really loved? what do you think about the ending? ;) leave me a comment to let me know (pls I’ve been screaming since september lol)
> 
> Actually, this is my first time finishing a multichapter fanfic and my heart is truly racing as I write this. I have so many emotions right now lol ~~i wanna cry~~. It took me 11 months to plan, outline and write this mess (+ 2 months of sporadic posting), so yeah, this was a labor of love. ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` ) ♡
> 
> ❤❤ Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who took the time to write one or more comments and leave kudos so far, and also thank you to the silent readers. Thank you if you have been reading since the beginning, and thank you if you just binge read this whole thing. :’) ❤❤
> 
> As much as I’m glad this is finally over, I’m really going to miss this AU. I kinda wanna make this into a series… I mean, the plot changed a lot from the very first draft to the final fic, and some things I liked were left out, but idk, what do you think?
> 
> Anyway, I’m currently working on my next YOI fanfic. I have a lot of ideas I really wanna write, and I hope to keep seeing some of you in the future. :) (you can also go and read more of my already posted, cheesy writing [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottonee/pseuds/Cottonee/works?fandom_id=11444638) ;) )
> 
> Don’t forget that you can always find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/commeunjardin) & [tumblr](http://v-katsuki.tumblr.com) if you wanna talk, or just read my random ramblings/writing updates.
> 
> **Until next time!**
> 
> ╰(✿˙ᗜ˙)੭━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ♡


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